Tell Me You Love Me
by JoBethMegAmy. my homegirls
Summary: This aspires to be a series of unrelated one-shots, each one inspired by a subtextual moment in the series where Jane/Maura ALMOST got it on, then didn't. Here's what should've happened in those instances... ch. 10: High School Reunion!
1. Truth or Dare

**A/N**: Hi guys! Rizzoli/Isles is my new obsession, and actually my first same-sex ship AND my first true non-cannon ship, personally. If you're a hater, feel free to not read on. But if like me you are just waiting for that inevitable moment when our detective and doctor get together, read on! This particular oneshot was inspired by a scene from the first episode, when Jane evacuates herself to Maura's house, in hopes of avoiding a run-in with Hoyt. Just as she starts to get comfortable, that pesky FBI agent man comes a-knockin'...

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><p><em>What the—what on earth is that FBI tool doing here? <em>

Not much time to dwell on the matter. When Dean glanced over at the door behind which Jane was hiding, she quickly pulled back. In the few moments it took her to tread lightly back to the bed, she realized instantly that she was overcome with jealousy, which was really weird. The jealousy wasn't so weird, so much as who it was aimed at.

Sure Dean was a nice looking guy, the type of man Ma Rizzoli had probably always fantasized about her daughter meeting. Any woman utterly confident in her heterosexuality would probably feel some natural jealousy towards her best friend who seemed to have had no trouble in getting this attractive guy to come to her house in the middle of the night. That wasn't what was happening here, though, much as Jane was scared to admit. She wanted Dean to leave. She wanted Maura for herself. What was this feeling? It had just crept up on her, out of nowhere. She'd known Maura for quite a while now and had never really felt so strongly towards her. Sure she was beautiful, successful, brilliant… maybe a little too literal now and then, but it was always surprising that she'd never found a man by now. No matter how dorky she claimed to be, Dr. Maura Isles was a catch. A hot, hot catch. And Jane, always one to listen to her gut feelings, knew right then she was jealous of that rude FBI agent.

She fixed a smile on her face when Maura re-entered the room, and actually it wasn't too difficult to grin: Maura had clearly arranged for Dean to come by, yet when she, Jane, had showed up instead, Maura didn't send her away. She didn't tell her she was being ridiculous, or that she ought to go back to her family. She put her in a bed… it was Dean she had sent off. Then she came and lay down on the bed next to Jane, seemingly oblivious of the nervous electricity her simple actions sent through the detective.

"So," Jane drawled in an effort to remain cool, "are we having a sleepover, or is this your way of telling me that you're attracted to me?"

Maura chuckled softly, and it sent a tangible chill through Jane. How had she never noticed what a cute, sexy sound that was? _Maybe because she's never made it while we were lying in bed together in the middle of the night when she's wearing silk… yeah, that's probably it_.

Instead of really answering the question, Maura said, "I'm not seeing him."

"Yet," Jane teased, trying to keep the conversation light.

Maura's gosh-awfully cute smile widened. "Somebody should, don't you think?"

"Yup." _Short, non-committing answers. _

"Should we draw straws?"

Counter with a crude joke: "What if we just show him our boobs, let him pick?"This earned her a whack with a pillow, and after the laughter subsided, Jane's curiosity got the best of her. "What'd he want?" she asked in another attempt to sound casual.

"I can't say," was Maura's terse reply.

"Fine. Go sleep in your own room."

"Jane…"

This was bad. Dozens of life-threatening situations had nearly sent Jane to the morgue, yet her heart had never hammered this hard; no moment had ever seemed to carry the weight of so much possibility…the possibility that she might kiss Maura right now and change their relationship forever… either for better or for worse. But she couldn't just make a move out of nowhere. Surely Maura didn't feel the same way, she just couldn't. It wouldn't make sense! Maura was so feminine, so quick to flirt with men, so open to inviting them over late at night for reasons she couldn't disclose to her partner and her alleged best bud.

Time for some detective work.

"Did you ever like the same guy as your best friend?" Jane asked, not sure where the words were coming from.

The response was immediate: "No."

"Did you ever _have _a best friend?" Jane asked, half jokingly.

Maura frowned slightly, and managed to say "no" without sounding sorry for herself.

Jane wanted to reply with something snarky, like, "You'd tell me if you were a Cyborg, right?" but the quickness of Maura's answers and the detached tone with which she said them gave Jane pause. "Aren't… I mean, wouldn't you maybe say—I think, Maura, you're my best friend. You're the best friend I've ever had."

It took an insane amount of self-control for Jane to keep herself from looking over at Maura, who she could tell had turned to stare at her. If she reciprocated the move, she felt there was little she'd be able to do to stop herself from grabbing the doctor's face and kissing her like a horny teenager.

"Jane, do you mean that?"

Already uncomfortable with where this was heading, Jane shrugged. "Of course."

"Well…same goes for me. I never thought I'd have someone in my life who gets me as much as you do."

Too bad for both of them that Jane was still determinedly staring at the ceiling. If she had allowed herself to look at the M.E., she would have probably noticed the way Maura was biting her lip and giving Jane a _good-God-I-want-to-kiss-you _gaze of desire. She was genuinely unable to tell if Jane was uninterested or just totally oblivious to (what Maura perceived to be) a completely blatant attempt to open a flirtatious dialogue.

"So if we're best friends," Jane said, "You wouldn't have a problem giving up that Dean guy for me?"

Fortunately Maura interpreted this the way Jane had intended it to sound, as opposed to the doctor thinking it'd mean "dump him and take me." With a laugh, Maura said, "You want him, fine! Take him!"

"Geez, talking about boys and all…this really is starting to feel like a slumber party," Jane remarked.

"I never got much sleep at slumber parties, ironically."

_Oh, really? _"Mm…yeah, girls rarely do. They stay up…doing other things…"

"Talking, mostly," Maura sighed. "Or playing stuff like Truth or Dare."

Jane couldn't keep a bark of a laugh from coming out. "Ha! Please! Playing that game wouldn't ever be fun with you, you always tell the truth anyway."

"Yes, which reflects a certain desirable moral standard, doesn't it?"

"Sure, or a sucky ability to lie."

Maura propped herself up on one elbow. "Okay, Detective Rizzoli. Let's play. Go ahead, truth or dare."

Jane smiled up at her. "Are you serious right now?"

"Does this face look like I'm joking?"

"It…okay. Um, dare, I guess."

_I dare you to kiss me! I dare you to take your top off! I dare you to get out a pair of your handcuffs and_—"Okay. I dare you to…to…"

Checking her watch, Jane could have no idea that Maura was scrambling internally for some kind of dare that wasn't so, well, daring. "Maura, come on!"

"I dare you to call Stanley and tell him what turns you on!"

"What! The mailman guy? Maura, gross!"

"You have to do it, I dare you! Don't tell me you're chickening out!"

"I can't, I don't have his phone number, unless _you_ have it for some reason?"

"Jane, how many times have you called down to the cafe for something? Leave a message on his machine at work!"

With a slow smile, Jane pulled out her phone. "I have to say, I'm really surprised at you, Maura." She slowly dialed the number, chuckling to herself. "Damn, he'll probably recognize my voice."

"Well, I didn't say you had to sound like you."

"Mm, wish I could do a good impersonation of _you,_" Jane said as the phone rung. "Oh, okay I got it." Then, in an eerily excellent imitation of her mother, Jane said, "Hi Stanley, you sexy mailman/kitchen worker you. I've been watching you and, truth is, I've been too shy to say anything to you in person, but… you are hot. You are one hot man, and you know what turns me on? Whipped cream. Where you would put shaving cream, so I could lick it…off… your face. And you know what else turns me on? Brains. Not, um, eating them, but people who have 'em. And I think you have 'em, Stan." She made the grand mistake of glancing at Maura, who was doubled up in silent laughter, forcing Jane to put her hand over the receiver so the machine wouldn't pick up her own giggling. "So—if you have brains you'll um—you'll"—more laughter—"Show up tomorrow outside Dr. Isles' office with whipped cream and a dictionary!"

She finally ended the call, no longer able to keep in the hysteric laughter. Maura was brushing away tears, though this didn't stop her from slapping Jane's head. "Outside _my _office? And with a dictionary?"

"I dunno why I said that, I panicked!" Jane laughed.

"Do dictionaries turn you on?"

"Hey, you gave me a dare, you didn't tell me I had to be truthful," Jane countered. "Oh, my gosh, I can't believe I just did that! How old are we, thirteen?" She started laughing again, simply pleased by the fact that she had given Maura so much amusement. "Okay, okay, now. It's your turn, doctor, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Aw, come on, Maura!"

"Truth! Go on, ask me anything you want!"

Slightly disappointed but not surprised, Jane gave Maura a good looking-over. "When's the last time you told a lie?"

It was Maura's turn to avert her gaze. "You're gonna laugh at me."

"No I'm not."

_Sigh_… "Tonight."

"Tonight? It wasn't to me, was it?"

"No, it was to Dean." Maura glanced over at Jane, who could not disguise a look of deep curiosity. "I mean I didn't say an outright lie, I just wasn't completely honest with him." She could feel herself turning red under Jane's deeply interested gaze, and quickly said, "I'm not telling you what I said, though, you didn't ask that! Your turn again, truth or dare?"

Jane narrowed her eyes, feigning an annoyed look. "Truth."

"Learned your lesson, hm?" Maura laughed softly. "Okay, truth… truth. What do I most want to know about Jane Rizzoli?" _What would you say if I asked you to kiss me right now? Have you ever made out with a girl? How come you're still single? _"Oh, I know. What did you think of me the first time we met?"

With a good-natured groan, Jane rolled onto her back. "Geez, Maura! I dunno!"

"Yes you do, no more stalling."

Jane continued to stare up at the ceiling, her expression slowly softening. After a few moments, she spoke in a reverent tone: "I remember feeling a lot of things at once. My very first, honest impression of you was that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen." She forced herself to speak clearly and not too rushed, because otherwise the comment might sound too gay. This was supposed to come off as objective. Straight. "Part of me was surprised that—I mean, that someone who looked like you could be a medical examiner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Maura asked, albeit in a teasing tone.

Furtively glancing at her, Jane shrugged (or shrugged as best she could while lying on her back). "C'mon, Maura, I'm sure most doctors don't spend as much time fretting about fashion as you do, or come to the door in the middle of the night looking as though they had just left a photo shoot."

"You know, that's a stereotype grounded in absolutely no level of reality," Maura said very matter-of-factly. "Regardless of their looks, people have inherent interests with which they are born, and frequently cultivate said interests as they grow older. Mine happened to be science, medicine. It doesn't matter that I was often told I should go into acting, or modeling, or whatever just because I was good-looking. It's not what I wanted to do, it's why I didn't follow up with ballet. I've always wanted to be exactly where I am now." _Next to you, in bed_.

With a smirk, Jane asked, "Are you saying you know you're gorgeous?"

"Yes. But it shouldn't be surprising that I'm a medical genius, also."

"Oh, you are too…too precious," Jane chuckled.

"Well I had the same feelings about you, too, when I met you," Maura said, causing Jane to perk up slightly. "You didn't look the way I expected a female cop to look, even if you did seem kind of hard at first."

"I can be soft…on the right occasions," Jane said in that husky bedroom voice of hers that turned Maura on so much it frightened her. She caught Jane's eye, and saw Jane's gaze drop briefly to her mouth. It seemed Jane sucked her cheeks in slightly before looking back into Maura's eyes once more. "Okay, your turn again. Truth or dare?"

She spoke with almost a whisper: "Dare."

Just then, a small clunking sound came from the kitchen. Jane sat up abruptly, her heartbeat soaring; it all came back to her. Yes it was terrifying being in bed with Maura, but that was a thrilling sort of terror that excited and aroused her. Outside of this room lay a much more life-threatening horror, a psychotic man out to get her. That's why she was here, that's why she was with Maura… Hoyt was after her, he wanted her dead, or at least he wanted her. Every nerve was pulsing with fear, and even as she knew it was more than logical for her to be afraid, at the same time she hated for Maura to see her like this.

But then Maura's hand was touching her arm, her bare arm exposed by the sweater that had fallen slightly with the haste of Jane's shift in position. The doctor's fingers smoothly rubbed Jane's arm as she whispered in a voice like a caress itself, "It's okay, Jane, it's just Bass." And Maura hated herself for thinking how particularly beautiful Jane looked when she was afraid, maybe because it was an expression she so rarely saw on the detective—who, at this moment, still looked petrified. "Really, Jane, it's all right…"

After a few moments, Jane was calm enough to lay back down again. Before she had time to process it, she admitted quietly, "I've never been this scared in my whole life." She wore an adorable, nervous smile, and without thinking, Maura kissed it.

She had shifted herself so that one arm reached over Jane, while her wavy blonde hair fell like a curtain on the left side of her face. The move was pure instinct: Jane was scared, she needed to feel protected and cared for. Loved. What better way to do that than with a kiss? The very moment their lips met, both women felt as though they had gone into cataclysmic shock. How could something as simple as a kiss feel so…good? No, "good" wasn't giving it enough credit—to Maura it felt better than winning the Nobel Prize, and to Jane it was making a home run, catching the crook, and beating her brother at hoops all rolled into one. It was sexy, it was scintillating, it was enlivening. It was the class and sentiment of Dr. Isles; the passion and energy of Detective Rizzoli.

All this in a kiss that lasted less than three seconds. Maura pulled away, suddenly embarrassed, but Jane immediately reached out to bring her back, cupping her face with her calloused hands. The kiss was more intense than the first one, probably (she thought) because she had initiated it this time. She was relatively gentle, but this passion she'd never known she was capable of possessing was forcing her to move Maura onto her back. But this move made it difficult for her to put her arms around the doctor, to really hold her close, and that was what Jane realized she most wanted. As if reading her thoughts, Maura pulled herself up, still kissing her partner, by gripping Jane's arms and sitting up.

They broke apart and Jane clung Maura as close to her as she could. She was trembling with disbelief at what had just happened, at its possible ramifications, but also because she was still terrified of Hoyt. "Please, Maura," she said in a broken whisper. "Stay with me tonight, I c-can't be alone."

Maura's fingernails briefly dug deeper into Jane's back, and she tried not to let herself get distracted by Jane's (surprisingly) sweet-smelling hair—a difficult task, as Maura's face was practically buried in it at this point. "Jane," she said through her teeth. "I… don't…"

She could feel Jane's shoulders droop, but their embrace remained tight. "You think that was a mistake," Jane muttered.

At this, Maura pulled herself back, keeping her hands on Jane's arms. Jane was staring at a spot on the bed, embarrassed with herself but also confused, as Maura had been the one to kiss her. She curled one hand into a fist, and Maura reached out to clasp it with one of her own hands.

"I don't think this is a very good idea," Maura said thickly, despite how much she had wanted it to happen and how wonderful it had felt. "We work together, Jane, we're partners. You're my best friend."

"I love you, Maura," Jane said flatly, looking up at Maura and studying her face for the slightest clue of her true feelings. "I thought I loved you like the sister I never had, but it hit me tonight, I want you. I can't help it."

"That was my first impression of you," Maura said, tearing up. "Not that—I mean, my first impression was that I… wanted you." Maura felt like she was walking on air when Jane slowly smiled at this, but when the detective leaned in for another kiss, Maura pulled back. "Jane, it's just… you want to know the numbers on how relationships turn out between co-workers?"

"Not good, I'm guessing," Jane said.

"Very not good. Bad, even. Horrible."

Jane gave a small grin, fully aware that Maura was still flustered and pleased that she'd had this effect on her. But the smile faded as she interlocked her fingers with Maura's, and looked into her eyes again. "Your statistics tell you that being with me is a bad idea. Okay. I understand. But tell me what your gut says."

"We've been over this, Jane. I have hard time going on my gut feelings—"

"I dare you to."

It took a moment. Then Maura finally returned Jane's stare, and upon seeing the hopeful smile on the detective's face, Maura realized what that sentence meant.

"I _dare _you, Maura Isles, to go with your gut on this one."

This was a look Maura knew well. Jane had only ever used it on her… so many people only knew Jane Rizzoli as a hard-as-nails cop, or a sassy woman who won't take your B.S. So precious few had witnessed her softer, kinder moments, such as when she was comforting a victim's family or trying to talk an overemotional suspect into calming down. She was never patronizing, never violent, never angry unless the person really, really deserved it. Yet here was this look, unlike any other in Jane's arsenal of expressions, reserved specifically for Maura, and it was only now that the doctor really appreciated what it was intended to convey. It meant this woman truly loved her like no one else. It meant every kiss, every flirtatious word or gesture exchanged with a man had only been a step to bring her closer to being with Maura. It meant Jane never wanted her to feel alone. It meant all the logic and all the stats and all the worries were pointless, completely futile. It meant Jane Rizzoli wasn't going to let anything stand in her way anymore of being with the one person she could not live without.

"Well," Maura said after a long pause. "If you put it that way…I guess the choice is out of my hands."

And she smiled that too-familiar, too-endearing smile that Jane adored so much, with deep-set dimples and brown eyes shining brightly. They met in a kiss, less scorching than before and somehow more intimate for it. Jane could not believe that mere moments ago she had been drowning in nothing but fear, and here suddenly she was the most happy she had ever been. She almost didn't care if Hoyt found her now because she could die happy, without any regrets …but fortunately, the prospect of living out a long and healthy life with Maura Isles was more than enough of a reason for her to keep on fighting. So she vowed she would.

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><p><strong>AN**: More to come, hopefully soon. Reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Unzip Me

**A/N**: This one's from Jane's POV. Also, these one-shots aren't going to be in chronological order of the show, which I decided was okay because that's not the point, haha. Anyway this one is set during one of the biggest teases of the second season, where Maura asks Jane to unzip her and then we cut away! Fail!

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><p>I wasn't keen on discussing French restaurants with Korsak and Frost after they had already joked about this dinner being a booty call, so my next (and what should've been first) move was to go to Maura. When I asked her if she was familiar with the place Wade was taking me, she replied in a sentence that might as well have been all in French for everything I understood: "Five star French restaurant! Brilliant <em>nouveau<em> take on escargot."

Fine, whatever. "Is this okay?" I ask in reference to what I thought was a very professional, formal looking outfit.

But then she looks at me like I had just suggested roundhouse kicking Bass into the arms of a chef who wanted to make turtle soup: "Are you out of your mind?" she asks in an almost strangled tone.

Immediately I go on the defensive. "What? I'm meeting Jesse Wade, he wants to do the interview there!"

Now she looks impressed and asks me to clarify. With one of her cute smiles—I mean, one of her, um, smiles—she says, "Le booty call!"

Barf. "What did you just say?"

Apparently not feeling the need to repeat herself, Maura simply says, "I know" like she has a sudden idea. What exactly she knows is beyond me, but then she starts taking off her jacket. Um…what? My first thought is that her dress is disappointingly modest, but then she turns around, says "Unzip me," and blinks flirtatiously.

A million times I had dreamed of hearing this, of _doing _this. Here we were, standing in her office, with me about to go get dinner with a potential stoolie, and Maura has shrugged off her jacket and asked me to undress her.

"Wh-why?" Damn stammer, don't give me away!

She turns her head and looks a little surprised. "Because you can't go like that! We'll trade clothes. C'mon." To hear her speak, you'd think this was a totally normal request for her to make.

Okay, Rizzoli, relax. I fight to get my heartbeat down to a regular pattern again as I process the fact that Maura is just being her weird, socially awkward self and wants me to put on her clothes so I'll make a better impression on Wade. I've been told before that I use humor as a mask to hide fear and disappointment, and as our conversation goes on, I realize it's the truth: "Are you crazy? That dress wouldn't… cover… my… booty."

But then she gives me that look, the one that says _we're doing this whether you want to or not_. And then she actually says, "Look Jane, we've got to do this whether you want to or not. You don't have time to run home and change, and even if you did, you and I both know you don't have anything decent to wear!"

"…thanks."

"Well? Get to it!"

"Um, can I at least close the blinds? I don't want people looking into your office and thinking that something massively inappropriate is going on."

She allows me that one courtesy and as I get to work closing the blinds and making sure the door is locked, I realize that I'm dragging my feet. And yet Maura stands there, completely oblivious to the enormity of what she has asked me to do, and also looking perfectly beautiful, of course. I clench my fists a couple of times to try and keep my fingers from trembling. In my fantasies I had always done this intimate movement slowly, to savor the moment—but now, I'm way too freaked out at what is happening to have any time to savor. Maura jumps when I yank down the zipper, which itself seemed to go on forever, to the small of her back.

"I meant just to start it," Maura laughs. "I could've gotten the rest myself."

"Right, sorry," I immediately apologize. It takes a second for me to realize my hand is still resting at the top of her ass, at which point I pull back so fast I thought I'd pulled a muscle.

Maura turns to look at me, which was just as well because now I wasn't staring at her exposed back, where I could see the hook for a flesh-colored bra. "I'm sorry," she says, sounding a little exasperated. "Is this weird?"

"Weird?"

"Yeah. I mean, you know I never had many friends growing up, especially girls, so I don't know what normal girl-to-girl behavior is. You're giving me one of those looks that seems to indicate this is inappropriate for friends to be doing. Does this all make you uncomfortable?"

"What? No, of course not," I say sarcastically, fighting a blush. "You—"

"Oh, good." And before I can tell her that in my experience straight friends don't undress each other, she has shrugged her dress to the floor.

"MAURA!" I shout, whirling around instantly away from her. It would be far too much to see her standing there without any outerwear, and I don't think my heart could take it—it already felt liable to jump out of my chest.

"Jane, what?" she asks in a perfectly innocent tone. "Were you being sarcastic when you said this wasn't making you uncomfortable? Because you didn't let me finish. I don't think this sort of thing should feel awkward at all." My ears were tuned to pick up the softest of sounds, and under her speech I could hear her shifting slightly and stepping out of her shoes, then the dress. "The human body is a natural, beautiful thing." (_Yeah, especially when it's yours, Maura Isles!_). "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

I can barely choke out words. "You—are—standing in your office in your underwear, with me, and you don't feel embarrassed?"

"Of course not. Now it's your turn, don't leave me standing here nearly _au natural _by myself! I need your clothes."

"No, _I _need my clothes!"

"No, you need _my _clothes."

"Look, Costello, would you please just put your dress back on?"

"Costello?" She laughs, and I shiver. "I think I'd be Abbott. I mean, as far as comparing ourselves to comedic pairs go, aren't I the straight man?"

Finally I turn around, determinedly fixing my gaze on her eyes. Beautiful, innocent, light brown doe eyes. She is holding up her dress, which obscures my view of her body, and I'm struck with the true hilarity of this situation and also how surprisingly unsexy it is for some reason. Maura's giving me yet another one of her patented looks, this time slightly impatient and expectant. It dawns on me that she's not going to let me leave this office until we've swapped clothes. Then it _really _dawned on me when she took a few steps closer and went for my belt.

"Geez, Maura, I got it!" I almost yell, swatting her hands away. "You want me to take my pants off? Okay, I'll take 'em off!" And with something akin to defiance, I whip off the belt, toss it carelessly away (I saw Maura's eyes follow it in horror until it landed safely in a corner and not on any of her valuables), and unbutton my slacks. With nothing to be tucked into, my shirt is just long enough to cover my hips, which helps me at least _pretend_ to be confident as I let my slacks fall. Pretending to be confident actually makes me feel a bit more sure of myself, so I don't have to work so hard to fight off a blush as I somewhat awkwardly pull my boot-clad feet out of my pants. When I straighten up, it is to see an entirely unfamiliar look on Maura's face. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was looking me over, but that's all wishful thinking, I'm sure. With a smirk I hand her my slacks, and she passes me her dress.

I'm supposed to be putting the pink atrocity on, but I'm too amused watching Maura. This might have been sexier if she was aware of my feelings for her, but as it is, it's just comedic. She seems satisfied that the slacks fit her at the waist, but then she frowned upon looking down and noticing that they are far too long for her. That's when I can't hold it in anymore and bust out laughing. I lay her dress on one of the chairs in the room and then use it to hold myself up because I seriously cannot stand how ridiculously adorable she looks in those overlong pants.

"Oh, what?" she laughs, and as I wipe a tear out of my eye, she comes closer to me. Geez, are those dimples for real? How is she so beautiful? "Now gimme that blazer."

"Oh, you want this blazer?"

"I'll take it by force, if necessary."

Her voice is still light and teasing, but then she put her hands on my shoulders to yank the blazer off, and that's when all of this immediately ceased being funny. Now Maura is practically holding me, she is wearing my slacks, and the top half of her perfect figure is guarded only by a bra. I know the smile has left my face not because it's a conscious movement, but because Maura reflects it. She is looking at me soberly, but also confused, her brow furrowed. I whisper her name and my hands delicately trace the skin on her waist. This alone causes an immediate sensation of fire between my bare legs, and I dimly remember Maura once telling me that there are something like two hundred and fifty nerve receptors per square centimeter in the fingertip. Multiply that by ten, and my receptors were going crazy for more of her. I want to know just a ballpark estimate of how many nerve receptors are in each of my lips and in each of hers, and how it would feel to combine them.

The sexy, foreplay thing might have been to ask her, but that doesn't occur to me at the time. I just move my hands up to her bare arms, grab her closer and kiss her aggressively on the mouth. Why so aggressively? Because I don't half-ass anything.

Usually you go into a kiss knowing exactly what to expect. At the most basic level you at least expect the other person to want to kiss you back, but that is definitely not the case here. All I knew was that in the past, in the many moments Maura and I had shared where it seemed like she might have been flirting with me, I had always dismissed my desires on the grounds that she could very possibly reject me. She could be horrified, disgusted, mortified, she might never look at our friendship the same way again—and having her in my life was too important to me to risk by kissing her and freaking her out. All those other times, though, we had both been fully dressed. Sure we'd been in the same bed before, but always in day clothes, always talking about a man or a case. Right here right now she was wearing my pants and little else, and she was in my arms. The impulse to kiss her was instinctive; it made as much sense as looking both ways before crossing a street. It would've been stupid _not _to.

Still, this does not account for the overwhelming beauty of the surprise when she starts kissing me back almost instantly. One of her hands grazes the back of my neck while the other twists slender fingers in my hair, and for some reason her measured, purposeful movements make me all the more flustered. I feel like a teenager making out for the first time; my hands refuse to rest anywhere and land on her waist, her back, her shoulders, her arms again. None of that matters, though, because she's smiling. I can feel it, and it's beautiful.

I walk her backwards, still kissing her, and we hit her desk. "Careful," she breathes. "There's evidence here—on—the—desk!" Her voice has never been sexier than when she is barely getting words in between these hungry kisses, almost laughing. So I turn and pin her against the nearest wall, still overjoyed that she has not tried to get away, that she is loving this as much as I am. I move my lips down to her neck and she clings to me, panting my name and gasping lightly. These are the hottest sounds I've heard so far, but I worry she might pass out soon if she keeps at it, so I cover her mouth with my own again. Her hands have moved to my ass and my legs, pulling me into her, and I myself am fumbling with the strap of her bra. But before I can unhook it, I freeze. Something keeps me from going further, in spite of how orgasmic it feels to be doing this, how right, how perfect, I force myself to take a step back.

She is flushed, breathing shallowly, her eyes fixed on mine. I run a hand through my hair and have to avert my gaze. "Maura, I'm sorry," I mumble. "You don't—I mean, you shouldn't …_I _shouldn't have jumped at you like that."

"You're sorry?" she whispers, still fighting (sexily!) for breath.

I brush hair out of my face again. "Yeah. Something just, something just kind of went off in my brain, like, I dunno—I was…"

"You were acting on your gut feeling," she prompts me.

A small laugh escapes me. "Yeah. I wasn't treating you with respect, which is dumb because I have _so _much respect for you."

"Respect."

Why is she suddenly talking like a moron? Or like _I_'m a moron? "Yes," I tell her slowly. "But I'd be lying if I didn't add that I'm also totally crazy about you."

As such an educated woman with an insanely huge vocabulary, Maura seems as mystified by her own inability to speak as I am. Her mouth opens to say something, but she only shakes her head, brow still furrowed. Eventually she says the words I realize I have been waiting to hear forever: "Jane, I'm in love with you."

I feel ready to cry, I'm so happy. There are no words that come to mind to express my feelings, to let her know how much I want her, need her, love her. Clumsily I struggle through with the kind of lingo I'm accustomed to: "Maura, I don't know where I'd be without you. You're like…" I envisioned the many druggies I'd taken down in my day, and how dependent and fixated they were on their substances. "You're like my personal brand of heroin!"

Now she looks even more surprised. "You've read _Twilight_?"

Wait, what? "What? No…"

"You just quoted it!"

"What? What did I say? That I'm a gay sparkly vampire who needs a sycophantic emo girl to slobber all over me?"

She laughs and looks so beautiful doing it that I am again tempted to grab her face and kiss her into oblivion. "No, the whole personal brand of heroine thing. He says that to the girl."

"Oh." I pause, for a moment feeing kind of dumb, but I can tell Maura's laughter is not unkind and it gets me to join in. "And I thought I was being so original! Why have you read _Twilight_?"

"I know I'm a woman of science, but that doesn't mean I'm not interested in a cultural, sociological phenomenon as unique as chaste vampire books!"

We are at this point two madly cackling, half-naked professionals who have just stopped making out to discuss _Twilight_. It probably would have been funny enough on its own, but the fact that I came so close to having sex with Maura and she was totally into it made me so ridiculously happy that I probably would have even laughed at a joke about the Boston Strangler. She makes me feel more joy than I ever thought possible.

"Oh, but quick," she says as I'm still wiping tears out of my eyes. "It's a good thing you stopped us, you're not dressed and you have to leave soon! Hurry, give me your blazer."

I am about to comply when something occurs to me. Giving her my best Rizzoli smolder, I say, "You asked me to unzip you. Undress me. Take it off yourself."

"I guess I deserve that," she says with a sigh and smile, stepping towards me. She slides the blazer off my shoulders and places it carefully on her chair. Her eyes do not break contact with mine as she delicately begins unbuttoning my shirt and we slowly exchange grins again. Once she has undone the last button, she slides her hands under my shirt and around my waist, pulling me into another kiss. God, she even _smells _sexy! Feeling her hands on my bare skin is uncomfortably intoxicating. I've almost forgotten I'm supposed to be somewhere when Maura rips my shirt my off and in one fluid movement puts it on herself. "Okay, detective, on with that dress."

Her voice is both bossy and dripping with sex, so even though she's instructing me to put on (pink) clothes, it doesn't occur to me for a second to disobey. As she finishes buttoning my shirt on herself, I step carefully into her dress. I twist my arm awkwardly to start zipping it up, but then Maura is behind me, whispering, "Allow me." Goosebumps erupt up and down my skin as she slowly zips up the dress. When it catches at the top, she kisses the back of my neck and turns me around.

"You look sexy," she says, sounding impressed.

"You look…" _Effing hot, like I want to take you to bed and get you pregnant right now. Wear butch outfits more often, you sexy thing! _"…like you're wearing my clothes."

And that makes us laugh again, and I think how insane it is that it's taken us this long to admit our attraction to each other.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading and the support. Please review!


	3. Need You Now

**A/N**: Phew! Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They really help keep me going. The inspiration for this one-shot came from the episode where Maura's mom comes to visit, which was directly after the baseball-player/"unzip me" episode. The reason this chapter is so long is because there was too many obvious chemistry moments to choose from, so I decided to have them all just build up to one. Also, Mama Isles totally knew these guys were doing it ("I can see why my daughter likes you!"). AND I had to have this little scenario at the beginning because did you notice how Korsak and Frost were _totally _being Maura's wingmen, forcing Jane to go to the gallery opening with her? I love this show!

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><p>With the first beer of the night, Jane had darkly remarked that murder had come close to ruining America's favorite pastime for her. Murder ruined everything. Korsak and Frost had nodded in solemn agreement, but as the night wore on and Maura never showed up, Jane drank more and more until she had had crossed the point where she could handle it. Frost had cracked a joke about Jane going on a date with Jesse Wade, and that's when the detective finally cracked.<p>

"You guys wanna know something? You want to hear something crazy?"

"Yeah, Jane, liven us up a bit here," said Korsak, the most sober of them.

"Is it about you and Dr. Isles?" Frost laughed.

"You know what, yeah…it is!" Jane said, her speech a bit slurred. "So, okay, get this. I go in her office to tell her about my meeting with Wade, and she asks me to take off her dress. Yeah!" she said over Frost's "NO!" and Korsak's raised eyebrows. "She's all, 'unzip me, Jane!' and bats her eyes at me like she wants me to freaking—well, undress her, but then do something to her, I dunno! What the hell, you guys? I mean seriously, what the freaking hell?"

"Did you…" Frost started.

"Of course not!" Jane almost shouted, waving her beer in frustration and sending some of it slopping down her front. She didn't seem to notice. "I mean yeah I undressed her but only because she actually wanted us to just switch clothes so I could look nice and pretty for that man." She carefully took a deep gulp of beer, muttering "that _man_" again under her breath before she did so. Frost was about to ask something else, but Jane wasn't done: "Who does that, really? For real, who the hell does that? Frost, you don't go to Korsak and ask him to switch clothes with you, do you?"

Frost looked at her, then stared at Korsak, then burst out laughing. "Hell no! Why should I?"

"'Cause obviously you dress better than him!" Jane moaned, slumping over onto the table. She stayed that way for a few moments, quite silent, and this worried Korsak enough to keep him from being offended at her crack about his style. "Guys, she doesn't even get it," Jane muttered, her speech muffled. "Maura, she doesn't ever get it. She's so smart but she's just so freaking _stupid _sometimes!" Then she abruptly got to her feet, muttering, "I gotta go home. Or Maura's, I gotta go to Maura's."

Korsak stood quickly as well, gently taking Jane's arm. "You've had a bit too much to drink there, Rizzoli, better let me take you home. Frost, you're on your way to being in the same boat, so come on."

After a fair bit of cajoling, Korsak was able to get both co-workers into his car to take them safely home. He dropped off Jane first, and after a fairly silent goodbye to her, wondered if Frost would be up to talking. They drove in quietness for a while, until Korsak finally said, "Frost, you with me?"

With a small shrug, Frost yawned and said, "Mostly. You stopped me just in time from drinking too much."

"What'd you think about what all Jane was saying? About Maura?"

"I dunno, you…think Jane's into her?"

"All I think is that drunken words are sober thoughts, that's what my father always said. So maybe, yeah."

"Nah, Jane and Maura are just friends," Frost said. Pause. "They'd be hot together though, whoa."

"Aw, man!" Korsak laughed, before immediately making his expression neutral again. "Frost, that's completely inappropriate. Now if it were a matter of sort of helping Jane along, helping her be comfortable with the idea if that's what she _wants_…"

Frost smiled slowly. "Yeah…yeah!"

But soon enough, the homicide department had its hands more than full again, this time with a Revolutionary War re-enactment gone awry. Jane had no recollection of spilling her feelings to the guys, although it may have been nice if she had, because then she would have somebody to talk to about the feelings that were ripping her apart from the inside. Instead she got to watch Maura fawn over this Professor Kravitz guy, just because he was some big-shot history professor at a second-rate Harvard. _Big deal! American history was my best subject in school. Not counting gym class anyway, but still_. _I should tell her that_.On top of the case, Maura's mother was coming to visit, which seemed to have sent the good doctor into a downward spiral of insanity, all the while having an internal conflict that was uncomfortably similar to Jane's.

Maura was wishing against wish that on this visit, she would feel a more familial bond with her adopted mother. She wanted a parent with whom she could discuss her love life, relationships in general. More than anything she wanted a doting mom who could help her sort out what she felt towards Jane. _Yes, that would go over very well. Mother, hello! So good to see you, did you have a nice trip? All right. So there's a woman I work with, she's coming over to dinner tonight, she's beautiful and she's sweet and she has a huge heart. For a long time I just assumed the nervousness I felt around her was part of a completely normal heterosexual friendship among heterosexual females, but it has most definitely reached the figurative point where I feel very strongly that we would make extremely compatible life partners. And sexual partners, oh yes, sex with that woman would be so—OH, sorry, German Expressionism! Fascinating, right?_

Sometimes two people are so blindly in love with each other that, convinced their feelings are not reciprocated, they are afraid of making even the slightest move. Scared of ruining a perfectly good friendship, they are content to merely fantasize and "what if." But now and then, a relatively sane third party comes along who is actually attuned to the workings of the universe and the fact that love between two grown people is never a coincidence, is never something to be afraid of, and is never wrong. In the case of Detective Rizzoli and Dr. Isles, that third party just happened to come from a very unexpected, usually absent source.

The night of Constance Isles' arrival was earlier than expected, which had sent Maura into a tizzy of worry. Jane was torn between amusement and pity at this—it was so sweet of Maura to want to impress her mother so badly, but it was also kind of sad that she was so nervous about messing up. When the doorbell rang announcing Constance's arrival, Maura jumped a little.

"Don't worry," Jane said, taking Maura's arm for a moment as she rushed to the door. "You look _beautiful_."

Maura didn't really acknowledge the compliment, nor did she turn around in time to see Jane smiling adoringly after her. It sometimes took a moment for things to register with Dr. Isles, and when she realized that this woman she felt so strongly towards had just called her beautiful, she couldn't keep from twirling around at the doorway to face her. Unfortunately Jane's glance had shifted as this point, but Angela saw the widest smile on Maura she had ever seen and knew immediately who it was for and why it was there. "_Jane!_" she hissed, giving her daughter a slap on the arm. Jane perked up and looked at Maura, and the eye contact seemed to be enough to sustain the doctor, who mouthed "okay!" one more time before swinging open the door.

As the Isles women greeted each other, Jane had to remind herself that Maura was adopted—Constance looked so much like she could have been Maura's birth mother. At the most basic level, they were both unbelievably unattractive. Jane could not keep a sexually frustrated "mm-_mm_," from escaping her lips, then remembered her own mother was standing right next to her. She quickly covered up with "Country mice meet city mice." Angela made some comment about Constance being gorgeous, and Jane breathed a sigh of relief.

Constance's looks may have been gorgeous, but her personality seemed anything but. While they were eating, she could do nothing but talk about her many worldly accomplishments and the sophisticated, cultural things she did all year long. Jane had nothing against well-educated people who liked to share their knowledge, but she did have an issue with snobbery—and Constance Isles was most definitely a snob.

"Did I tell you I'm going to Zagreb with your father for the German Expressionist festival?" Constance asked Maura, who lightly expressed some interest.

"That's so great of you to find time in your busy schedule to come to Boston to visit your daughter," Jane said, feeling that Maura had been left out of the conversation for too long. She was so intent on watching Constance for a response that she missed the appreciative look of adoration that Maura shot at her.

Unfortunately, any happiness or optimism in the room was shot down when Constance said, "Well, I'm actually here for an installation opening."

Angela was quick to inquire politely about what this was, but Jane did not open her mouth again right away because she was sure if she did, it would be only to spew a handful of choice swear words at this woman. How could she be so cold? How could she be so horrible to such kind and considerate child, the one Angela had so truthfully called the perfect daughter? Maura had slaved over this dinner, making sure everything was absolutely perfect and had even gone so far as to get her mother's unpronounceable favorite dessert, and now the woman was too tired to eat it?

When Constance airily waved her hand and obnoxiously made a remark in a foreign language understood only by one other person in the room, Maura tried to translate. "She says—"

"She's too tired," Jane muttered.

"I didn't know you spoke French!" Maura said, her expression of delight again going unnoticed by her friend.

Jane barely masked a grimace at Constance as she said, "I read body language." In that case, it's _really _too bad she hadn't seen Maura's face a second ago, because she would have known that by "I didn't know you spoke French," Maura really meant, "I didn't know you spoke French, oh my God, that's so hot, speak to me in French while you do French things to me!" Instead, nobody commented on Jane's slightly rude remark and Constance explained to her daughter that she'd be staying at the Ritz since she'd already gone to the trouble of checking in. At this point, Jane was little more than a simmering pool of anger and disgust, furious at how callously this woman was treating the love of Jane's life.

Once Constance was gone, it broke Jane's heart to see the disappointment and heartbreak evident in Maura's face. She wanted nothing more than to pull the desolate doctor into an embrace and tell her everything would be all right…but her own mother was still there. Unable to think of any sort of pretense to be left alone with Maura, Jane resorted instead to comforting her with words. Empty, empty words… _just give me two minutes with your mother and I'll make sure this never happens to you again!_

This opportunity came much sooner than Jane had anticipated.

She was discussing the sniper case with Korsak and Frost, when Maura suddenly walked in. Dr. Isles always looked beautiful just in her work clothes, but to see her dressed to the nines like this sent Jane's heart flying up her throat. Her hair was flawlessly styled, and she was somehow pulling off a gold jacket-leopard print dress combination without looking tacky. Jane had to cover up her desire to say "Good _Lord _you are smoking hot!" by saying the first inane, not-gay thing that came into her head: "Well, why are _we _so fancy?"

"I'm going to my mother's gallery opening," Maura said happily.

"Oh, she put you on the list?"

"We can get in."

_We_._ WE? Me? She and me? _"Who's 'we?'" _That's it, stay cool, Rizzoli_.

But before Maura could get around to answering the question, she switched gears completely to explain to Korsak that he was not suffering from heart problems, but gas issues. Only Maura Isles could talk about farting and still be sexy. Jane wasn't sure if she was bummed about the change of topic or relieved that the art opening might not come up again; either way, her heart was sent into a frenzy once more when Maura finally said, "I was hoping you would go to the installation with me."

"Gee, are you asking me on a date?" Jane asked sarcastically—a bold move, considering how badly she wanted the answer to be yes.

Maura stared for a moment, prompting the two men at the table to look at her as well. "Would it change your response if I did? I mean I know you don't particularly care for modern art, but this is important to me, and you care about _me_, don't you?"

Jane was clearly flustered, and out of pity, Frost decided to help her out by not making her reply. He exchanged a glance with Korsak, who nodded. Frost leaned back and said, "She _loves _modern art! You know what, Jane, we got this. Go." He gave her one of his winning smiles, despite the fact that she was glowering at him as darkly as if he'd suggested she use Korsak's flatulence as an air freshener for the interrogation room.

"Yeah, go!" said Korsak. "We know how much you like these fresh ideas, crazy colors and cubes and things."

About to make a smart-mouthed comeback, Jane nearly froze when Maura tapped her shoulder lightly and said in a pleased voice, "Oh I'm so glad you've opened your mind to it!"

"You two have fun now," Frost chuckled as Jane got begrudgingly to her feet.

"Thanks guys," she said in a faux sweet tone, wondering just how much the two of them had guessed about her feelings towards Maura.

Everyone was right in knowing that modern art drove Jane crazy, but the important thing was that she was here to support Maura. Besides, it drove her even more crazy that Constance had gone all Ice Queen on them again and "forgotten" to put Maura on the guest list of her exclusive opening. There were no curse words to describe how Jane felt about this woman. She couldn't handle just standing there while Maura, so desperate to please her mother, just took all the abuse and complimented her on the (_retarded!_) artwork. While Jane's sarcasm might have often been lost on her partner, Constance was able to pick up the snide quality to Jane's comment on her piece.

"So nice to see _you _again, Jane," she said sweetly.

"You too." Then, before she even knew what she was doing, she said, "Maura, would you mind getting us something to drink? I'd _love _to get to know your mother better." Though she looked a bit baffled, Maura complied quickly enough, leaving Jane to wonder what on earth she had just gotten herself into. Well, can't waste this opportunity now… "Love your hanging water bottles. They make me feel _very _guilty, and I will never buy water again."

"I can see why Maura likes you," Constance said, sounding sincere. _She likes me? Did she tell you something? WHAT DO YOU KNOW, WOMAN? _"You're direct. It's kind of refreshing."

"I'm very protective," Jane suddenly heard herself saying. _Gah, hetero this out!_ "Maura's my best friend."

All the cards were on the table now, and Constance had a different look in her eye as she said, "I sense there's something you'd like to say to me."

"Yeah, there is. I don't like seeing my best friend hurt."

"You think _I _hurt her?"

Hardly believing the genuine surprise in the woman's voice, Jane said, "Not staying with her? Cancelling dinner? Forgetting to put her on the list of your installation opening? Yeah, I think that hurts her."

In a steady voice, Constance said, "She's the chief medical examiner. She has her own life, you're both out there working this important case, it's all over the news. I didn't want to be in her way." They were all excuses, and she knew it, and she knew that Jane knew it. It struck her then just how strongly Jane actually felt about this, and Constance knew there would be no B.S.-ing her way out of it. "She must know how proud I am of her. How much I love her."

"Not really, the signals you're sending."

"Hm, you would know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Raising an eyebrow, Constance whispered, "Detective, you said the other night that you can read body language. Well, so can I. If you think I can't read the signals you and my daughter are sending off to each other, you have absolutely no estimation for how brilliant I actually am."

"Wow, you're just like Maura," Jane said under her breath. But then—"Wait. Exactly what signals are we talking about here?"

"My dear, I'm from Europe!" Constance said with an airy laugh. "You don't need to hide anything from me! If you're afraid of offending _me _with this relationship, think nothing more of it! Are you worried about your mother's reaction? Would you like me to tell her for you?"

_Is she getting at what I think she's getting at? _"Tell her…?"

"About your relationship with my daughter."

"My—!"

"I think it's wonderful."

"No, no, we—"

"Jane, it's all right," Constance said, putting her hands on either of Jane's arms. This startled the detective, and she was so stunned by the sudden tenderness in Constance's voice that she shut up long enough to let the woman keep talking. "Look, I was never any good at it, at being a mother. I—I feel like I missed so much!" Releasing Jane, she took a quick shuddering breath to keep herself from crying. "We adopted Maura to give her a shot at a real life, to give her the education and culture every young girl should have. Despite what you may think, I love her _very_ much. I want her to be happy, just like any mother wishes to see her daughter truly happy. And I can tell by the way my Maura looks at you and the way she talks about you that you make her happier than anyone or anything else in the world."

And then, in a classic example of atrocious timing, the greeter from the gallery walked up to the women. "I'm sorry," he said with a glance at Jane, "but our patrons are expecting a speech from the artist…?"

Constance looked at Jane, as if waiting for some sort of approval, but the detective still felt too blindsided by their conversation to be able to speak. She stared back dumbly at the artist, who merely managed a weak smile and one more pat on the shoulder before following the gallery greeter away into the crowd.

Which left Jane standing there alone, feeling somewhat like a moron.

At least, temporarily. Constance's vacated spot was soon taken by Maura, who was holding two champagne glasses. "Good timing," Jane said. "Your mom's about to give a sp—"

"Come with me right now," Maura said so sternly she might have been about to announce that some grisly murder had taken place on the premises. Bewildered, Jane imitated Maura's impressive weaving through the guests, following her to the front door of the gallery. As soon as they were out of earshot of most of the attendants, Maura hissed, "What on earth where you interrogating my mother for?"

Jane wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. "Maura, don't you think we should go back inside and—"

"_No!_"

"Maura, you're freaking out!" Jane almost laughed. But as her friend showed no level of amusement, Jane decided that clearly they needed some quiet place to talk. She led the way around the corner, where she found an intern standing at a desk in front of what appeared to be a large closet. "Excuse me," Jane said. "This the coat check?"

"Yes, ma'am," the intern said. "May I take your coats for you?"

Jane flashed her badge at the intern, whose eyes widened. "Detective Jane Rizzoli and this is Dr. Maura Isles. We received a call about …asbestos… removal… issues in this room, and we'll need to take a look."

"Oh! Oh, well of course!" the intern nervously replied. "Um—are the guests' coats safe in there?"

"We'll determine that," Jane said, holding the door open for Maura and then shutting it behind her with a "thank you for your cooperation" directed at the clueless intern. "Okay. Maura. You were saying?"

Thrusting one of the champagne glasses into Jane's hand, Maura said, "'Oh, Maura, get us a drink,' okay! Well I went off to go do that, and when I came back, I saw my mother almost in tears! What did you say to her?"

"Maur—Maura, I just wanted to talk to her!"

"And you couldn't say whatever it was in front of me?"

"Well no, frankly, I couldn't!"

"Why not?"

"Because—!" Jane downed the champagne and Maura did the same, but the drink didn't calm either of them down. "I couldn't stand seeing you just—take all this crap from that woman! You deserve better!"

"Jane, the woman is my mother, I need to respect her!"

"And she needs to respect _you_!" Jane countered. "That's all I wanted to tell her, and then she got—I mean, I didn't make her cry, I swear I didn't! Well, I mean, sort of, but not really because of anything I said." With a hollow laugh, she said, "I guess I was coming off as too protective, because your mom thinks we're a couple."

She had fully prepared herself for the pain of hearing Maura join in her weak laughter, to treat this notion of them being together as a hilarious joke. But Maura just stood there, empty champagne glass in hand, looking at Jane with a curious expression as though she were a piece of modern art. After several uncomfortable moments, she said, "And… the idea of that… made my mother want to cry?"

"Yeah," Jane said hoarsely, putting her free hand in her back pocket. "Because she was so thrilled her daughter had found somebody at last."

"You didn't correct her?"

"Well—I was going to, but then she got whisked away by that guy, so… so I guess we can tell her once her speech is done."

Maura closed her eyes for a moment, then took a step closer to Jane. "If she was happy enough to cry, do you…think we could pretend we're a couple?"

Jane took a deep breath and surveyed the doctor, trying to read her body language. Maura was less than two feet away now, her eyes bright and a solemn look on her face. Both were flashing back to the instance where they had feigned a relationship to get rid of Giovanni, and the awkwardness that had briefly arisen between them after it. Now Maura wanted to do it again, as an excuse to be in Jane's arms once more…

"No," Jane said in a whisper. "I can't. Please, don't look at me like that!" she groaned when Maura tilted her head in light confusion. "Maura, I don't want to do that again. I can't do it again, don't ask me."

Maura's voice was patient. "Why not?"

"You don't want to know," Jane muttered. _When you asked me to unzip you and I saw your body, the possibility of a restraining order was the only thing that kept me from launching myself at you. When we pretended to be together to fool Giovanni, you gave me too much of a glimpse at our potential. I'm in love with you and I don't know how to deal with it_.

"May I try something?" Maura asked softly.

Trembling, Jane asked, "What?"

Maura steadied herself, setting her champagne glass carefully on the floor. She placed her newly unencumbered hands on either side of Jane's face, and as an involuntary reaction, Jane felt her glass slip out of her hand and crash to the floor. Though the noise was loud and unpleasant, neither of them paid it any mind.

"No," Jane begged quietly. "Maura, don't do this. Please."

The doctor's lips turned slightly downwards; without intending to, she had formed her mouth into a small pout. "You want me to kiss you. I can see it…in your eyes."

"My eyes?" Jane snorted, trying to fight down her rapidly beating heart. "No scientific mumbo-jumbo word for that?"

"Oh, there is," Maura said. "I just…I can't remember what the word is. I can't think of anything right now except…"

Her eyes fell slightly to Jane's quivering lips, and they were both struck by the quietness of this moment. For months now they had been busily denying their feelings for each other, they had laughed off peoples' assumptions that there was an attraction between them, all while desperately wishing the other would make some kind of move or drop some kind of hint. They had been satisfied to be best friends. Now, though, it was clear that something was going to happen. What had started off as an argument had somehow turned into a confession on both their parts; even if neither of them had openly admitted anything yet, each was now aware of the other's feelings. There could be no going back.

Pursing her lips, Jane reached up for one of Maura's wrists. She did not move either of Maura's hand's from her face; something had just prompted her to hold her there at that moment. When she spoke, her voice came out at a slightly higher pitch than usual, and less steady as well:

"Maura, don't do this without knowing how much you mean to me. Please… _please _tell me you know, because I can't let this happen again without you understanding how much I need you."

And she shut her eyes, as if not looking at Maura would somehow ease the pain of rejection. Several long moments stretched past, however many or few Jane had no idea because she had ceased any conscious thinking. She could not count the seconds as they passed, she could not focus on anything until Maura did or said something. It was her turn now, Jane had spoken her mind, it was up to Maura what she did with it. To Jane's embarrassment, when she screwed her eyes more tightly shut, a tear was pushed from one of them. She felt its quick progression down her cheek and her clenched lips parted slightly. Maura brushed her finger upwards to stop the tear, and she finally closed the distance between her and Jane by kissing her on the mouth.

Jane reacted immediately, putting her arms around Maura and pulling her into her tall, strong body. She had always been one to mock perfume or Victoria's Secret commercials that blasted the viewer with euphemistic visuals for sex—waves crashing on the beach, flowers blooming, volcanoes erupting—but the only things going through her mind at this moment were a series of disjointed images. Maura smelled like a meadow of lavenders, she felt as smooth as a silk sheet, she sounded like a woman in love who couldn't catch her breath.

It was everything they had both needed, and neither could understand how they could have suffered for so long being side by side yet never experiencing this ecstasy.

Maura smiled when she accidentally stepped on the broken glass on the floor, and this caused Jane to grin as well. They parted briefly, flushed and smiling.

"Aw, babe," Jane whispered in her rich, deep voice. She reached up for Maura's ponytail and pulled out the hair tie, smiling more broadly as Maura's golden hair fell about her shoulders. "You're so beautiful."

This time she was the one who reached for Maura, stepping slightly away from the broken glass, only this time in their eagerness, one of them kicked over the champagne glass Maura had set down earlier, causing it to also shatter. They laughed between their kisses, and it was the most beautiful sound either of them had ever heard. Jane poked her tongue out and ran it across Maura's lips, which opened enough to grant its entrance. The feeling of Jane's tongue circling her own was overwhelming enough to make Maura shiver; she faltered slightly and let out a small gasp of surprise. A salty taste had found its way into her mouth, and she ascertained that Jane had not been able to stop a few more tears—tears of relief and utter happiness—from coming out.

They were brought out of their romantic reverie with a faint sound of applause coming from down the hall.

"Are we moving too fast?" Jane breathed.

"I don't know," Maura said, unable to keep that beautiful grin off her face. "Maybe we should go tell my mother about us…"

"_Thank _her, more like," Jane chuckled. They walked back to the door hand-in-hand, feeling as giddy as two teens in love.

The intern at the desk looked up and smiled at the happy expressions she saw on the doctor and the detective. She'd been so worried about the asbestos that she didn't even process the fact that both of them had slightly swollen lips and were holding hands. "Everything all right in there?" she asked brightly.

"Yup, it's all good," Jane said. "Thanks for letting us take a look."

The girl beamed. "Of course! I was a little worried at first, since you were in there so long, but I guess I should just be glad you were being so thorough!"

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><p><strong>AN**: I'm having so much fun with this, you guys. Reviews are love! :)


	4. Happy Birthday, Baby

**A/N**: I know I categorized this under Romance/Humor, but I wanted to try my hand at something slightly more dramatic. Also I tried to this one from **Maura's POV**, which was much more difficult than going from Jane's, I have to say, at least for me. This one-shot was inspired by that kind of ridiculous summer finale we just had. I mean, Hoyt nearly kills both our ladies, Jane goes all-out butch crazy and kills him, then we immediately cut to everyone feeling better and having a pony birthday party? NO! Just no! We needed something like this!

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><p>When I woke up, I felt that same disorientation that comes when you wake from a long and realistic dream. Say you dreamt that you were on a luxury liner on the Mediterranean. You can smell the water, the lobster dinner, your boyfriend's cologne perfectly. The sun's warmth on your skin feels absolutely real; the light breeze shifts your hair in your face in the most annoying manner it can. That's why it's so incredibly odd to wake up from that dream and be in a bed, in the dark, alone. Only this time, I had not been dreaming—I just woke up from a deep sleep, and felt confused by my surroundings. It didn't take very long for the previous day's events to come back to me: I had lived a very frightening, very real nightmare involving Charles Hoyt.<p>

It was at that moment I realized why I felt more disoriented than usual. I was at Jane's house, I was in her room, I was in her bed, and she was lying beside me. We had fallen asleep together before, but I remembered instantly that this time had been quite different. My excellent memory was aided by the fact that Jane had one arm draped over my stomach, and her head was positioned just beneath mine so that some of her hair was lying over my neck and left shoulder. As the events of the previous day and night came rushing back to me, I forced myself to stay calm. I did not want to wake Jane up just yet; she deserved her sleep. Unfortunately, this left me alone with my thoughts, and at first, those thoughts weren't very pretty...

_What is she doing? Jane, don't get so close to him—_

_ But before I can share a warning, Hoyt has grabbed her at the neck and twisted her around, so that he is sitting over her on the bed, with a scalpel in his hand. Out of all the terrifying situations I have seen or known Jane to be in, this is by far the worst. Even when she was taken hostage by someone she had considered a friend, she had stayed brave for me, she had told me it would be all right. But now, as she is turning red under Hoyt's vice grip on her neck, she says just two words that instill a disproportionate amount of fear within my soul: _

_ "Help me!" _

_ They frightened me for two reasons, mostly because I felt so unable to help her. My brilliant mind is suited only to analyzing forensic evidence and, when stretched, diagnosing the living. But Jane's plea for help fell on useless ears, which is why I turned in desperation to the prison guard next to me. The other reason Jane's words scared me so deeply is because I had never heard her sound so afraid. She was the protector, the fearless one, the valiant one—hearing her cry for help made me finally appreciate the phrase "heart-wrenching": it was dissolving my faith and my resilience. _

_ The guard was smiling; he had been in on this the whole time. He tied my hands together as Hoyt did Jane's, and we exchanged empty, meaningless words about the case that had seemed so important a few moments ago. It was still important in its own way, and there were many other important stories Hoyt had never shared, but right now all that was important to me was getting Jane out alive. I could not let this happen, I could not let him kill her, but what could I do? And all the while, the pathetic, romantic, sad part of me was disgusted with myself for never telling Jane I loved her—and I could never tell her like this—_

_ Then, in what seemed like an inexplicable move, Hoyt motioned for his guard to switch places and weapons with him_. _He leered at me, holding the taser close enough to frighten me but not to harm me, just yet. "You appreciate psychology, Dr. Isles?" he hissed through his grinning teeth._

_ "Hoyt, don't you dare touch her!" Jane shouted, and my heart leapt for her—she was so brave to be so audacious on the brink of death, of both our deaths, and for my own pitiful sake…_

_ But her comment only caused Hoyt to grin wider. "She's upset," he said. "Because I'm going to get to you first, before she ever had the chance." _

_ I had been so distraught, so afraid he was going to murder Jane in front of me, that I was only just registering Hoyt's entire, disgusting plan. Right as it struck me, he used his weapon and suddenly I felt no more, I moved no more. A scalpel hovered in my sight before disappearing, and I knew Hoyt was going to use it on me, even if I couldn't feel it—Jane would see it. Then everything seemed blank, hazy, somehow… all I could remember was a loud scream from Jane, and an ensuing fight. Hoyt was on top of me and then he wasn't; he was off me, he was gone…_

_ And Jane was there. Frost and Korsak were there, as well as the argumentative Warden, but all that mattered was the fact that Jane was standing protectively over me. Jane—looking frightened, tears falling onto my frozen body, her arms trembling, but very much and very beautifully alive. I realized I was struggling to breathe, and Jane put a hand under my neck to cradle my head, holding my wrist with the other. Her expression was so deeply terrified that I wondered how badly Hoyt had cut me up, or if it was just the intensity of the situation that had rendered her so uncharacteristically afraid. She lifted my arm slightly, and I caught sight of how ghastly white I had become. _

_ "Maura, honey, can you move?" Jane asked, her teeth nearly chattering._

_ I wanted so desperately to nod, but I could barely move. The effects of the electroshock weapon had yet to wear off, so despite how fervently my brain was sending the messages, my body refused to respond. I could not feel Jane's touch, though I could see she was holding me; I still felt ice cold, numb. She looked up and away for a few moments, presumably to look at the EMT who I had heard enter the room. _

_ Finally I managed to choke out her name, and she shifted her gaze immediately back to my eyes_._ I have always been a believer in hard science, in empirical evidence, and irrefutable facts, but I felt something then. Perhaps it was the exhausted, delirious state I was in, but for the first time I realized I could read Jane's eyes. She did not say another word, yet I understood her perfectly. There was tenderness, there was love, there was relief, there were more tears. Jane assisted me in sitting up slightly, my arms clasped clumsily around her shoulders. _

_ My brain sent the message to my lips, but they were unable to form the words: I love you. The phrase kept repeating itself in my head, as though I were afraid I would forget it, until everything went black._

_ The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed_._ My eyes were still closed, but I could smell that sterilized, slightly ill scent that is an omnipresent feature of every hospital the world over. Somebody was holding my hand, and before I opened my eyes, I ran my thumb across their fingers and heard a sharp inhale. Sight confirmed what I had dared to guess: Jane was sitting in a chair right next to my bed, and she was hunched over, looking exhausted—but she perked up the moment we made eye contact. _

_ "Hey," she said weakly, forcing a smile._

_ I tried to smile back. "What time is it?"_

_ "A little after seven." She paused, giving me time to try and figure how long I had been out for, but I couldn't remember when we had gone to visit the prison. Jane chuckled softly. "I was going to bring you some flowers, but I remembered you told me they were really bad to bring to hospitals, since they help spread… germs, or something, right? Was it germs? And I felt stupid getting balloons, so I didn't do that, sorry. Nothing personal. Ah, shoot, I should've brought you fudge clusters! Next time—" _

_ "Jane, why are you rambling?" _

_ Before she could answer, Angela came bursting into the room with a cup of coffee, which she promptly dropped on the floor at the sight of me. "Oh thank God!" she cried, apparently not caring to notice that a hot drink was seeping steadily onto the floor. Jane dropped my hand as Angela came rushing over to me, and though this may have bugged me had it been anyone else, I could not help smiling at Angela. Sometimes I feel as though she's my own mother, my surrogate mother, so I didn't mind it as much that she was the first to embrace me. "Sweetheart, we've been so worried—"_

_ "No need to be worried," I said. "The effects were due to wear off."_

_ She continued on as though I hadn't said a word. "Jane's been sitting here for about five hours—"_

_ "Ma," Jane said shortly, glaring at her mother. I wanted to ask exactly how long she __had__ been sitting there, but something stopped me. Tact, possibly_.

_ "Can I go home?" I heard myself ask in a piteous voice._

_ Angela took my hand and solicitously patted it_. _"Of course, Dr. Isles, I'll go speak to the doctor." And she was gone_.

_"Would you like to change?" Jane asked, sounding strained. "I had my mom bring over some of your clothes, in case, you, uh…you know." _

_ I sat up, noticing that the tenseness in my joints came from tiredness and lack of use, not from any lingering effects of the taser. Jane handed over a sleeveless blue dress and a pair of black flats. When our hands grazed each other, she pulled back as quickly as if she'd been burned. Confusing, but I didn't feel up to analyzing it at the moment. Now that I had the feeling back in my body, it felt as though my brain were slowly going numb as I tried in vain to process what had happened earlier that day. My mind was blank as Jane pulled the curtain around my bed to give me some privacy, and it wasn't until I heard Angela coming back that I got an idea. _

_ "Jane, could you give us a moment?" I asked, coming out from behind the curtain. Both of the Rizzoli's looked a little surprised, but Jane eventually complied and stepped outside the room._

_ Angela looked ready to cry. "I don't know what to do, Dr. Isles. I can't believe this happened—on Jane's birthday, too!" she added with a little shaky laugh. "But at the same time, getting rid of that guy is probably the best gift she could've gotten." _

_ Unable to think of an appropriate response to this, I merely said, "I have a favor to ask of you, Angela."_

_ "Sure, Dr. Isles, anything!"_

_ "About Jane's party…"_

_ "I didn't have time to finish getting it ready—I was still out buying things when Frankie called me up to tell what happened at the prison. I dropped everything and got here as soon as I could!" _

_ Perfect. "All right, then…I was wondering if maybe you'd mind going back to Jane's apartment and staying there tonight. Finish setting up the party, and we could have it tomorrow—then it would really be a surprise! She can stay at my house tonight."_

_ Angela raised her eyebrows and pointed a finger at me. For a moment I wondered if she had finally caught on, but she just said, "Oh! I get it, Dr. Isles—if Jane stays with you, she won't be around her place to see us getting ready for the party! And I'm sure she won't mind, she'll want to be with you to make sure you're all right, you being her best friend and all."_

_ "Right…"_

_ Which is how I managed to steal Jane away to myself for an entire night. We drove back to my house in relative silence; whenever I said or asked something, Jane would reply only in monosyllabic form, not taking her eyes away from the road. A tic was going in her temple and her lips seemed clenched shut. As we turned onto my street, a particularly bright traffic light threw enough of a glow into the car to illuminate Jane's face, and I saw that she was still crying, albeit silently. She pulled into the driveway and got out of the car without saying a thing to me. Slowly I opened my own door and stepped out, and just as I was wondering how exactly things were going to be tonight, Jane wordlessly scooped me up in her arms and carried me to the front door. _

_ It struck me as odd how normal this seemed. She was holding me like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold, and it did not seem awkward, it did not seem funny even in the slightest. When we reached the actual door, it seemed to dawn on Jane that it was locked and she didn't have a key. Finally she allowed herself to look at me, and there it was again—I could read her thoughts. My heart felt ready to have an attack as those big brown eyes of hers stared into mine, her eyebrows arched upwards slightly. She wanted me, I felt almost positive…_

_ "Maura," she whispered. "I, um…" _

_ I reached above the doorframe and felt for a key, the one Angela usually left out in case of emergencies. My fingers closed around it and I unlocked the door with one arm still around Jane's neck. She grasped quickly for the knob and twisted it, kicking the door shut after us once we'd entered the house. Shameful though it feels to say, my eyes shifted immediately towards the bedroom, but Jane only placed me gently on the couch in the living room. Instead of sitting down next to me, she stood in front of me and started to pace, rubbing her eyes. _

_ "Do you…want to talk about it?" I asked_.

_ She shook her beautiful head of hair, not to signify a negative response but as if trying to clear it. "What?" she mumbled, avoiding my gaze. I pursed my lips and she stole a glance at me. Ascertaining my annoyance, she blew some hair out of her face and returned her somber gaze to me. "I can't figure it out," she muttered. "If Hoyt was brilliant, or if I was just really, really stupid. You know what he does, Maura. His style_._"_

_ "Kills couples…rapes the wife, and makes the husband watch."_

_ "He wanted to do that to us," Jane breathed. "He was going to make me watch as he… did that to you. And once he'd done it, he knew that killing me would be easy because I'd already be dead."_

_ "Jane, you're speaking hyperbolically—"_

_ "Damn it, Maura, he knew how I feel about you!" Jane cried hoarsely. "I mean, think about it—think about it in plain English, in plain, straight-forward psychology! He should have killed me first, because I could have posed more of a threat than you—that's why he needed a wingman, because when it came right down to it, I could have taken him on my own. If all he wanted was to kill me, he could have killed me with that scalpel, but he didn't. He wanted to scare me, he wanted to drive me out of my mind, and he knew the best way to do that was by—if he had—if he'd…"_

_ "If he'd sexually assaulted me first." _

_ She threw her hands up in frustration, the way I had seen her do countless times before. "Exactly! Maura, I don't know what happened to me—it's just like—it's like something snapped in me, when I figured it out, and I had to save you or die trying, I really did. And it was easy, so easy to kill him, when I never could before, because it was bigger than me this time, it was you… and when you passed out in the ambulance and after they'd taken care of this cut on my neck, all I could think about was being with you and being there when you woke up, because I want to be that person—I want to be that person in your life who is there, all the time, the first call, because I…you…"_

_ I'm sure I was blushing. No one had ever made me blush before. This was probably because I am never embarrassed, but Jane's words didn't embarrass me—I was flushed with nothing but bliss at her words, at the depth of her feeling for me. At the same time, I still felt sick and unclean. I knew that I smelled awful and looked a mess. _

_ "Jane, I need to ask you something."_

_ Her eyes seemed to widen slightly. "What?" she breathed._

_ "If I took a bath right now, would you promise to be here when I got out?"_

_ Judging by the expression on her face, I had managed to once again display an utter lack of tact and/or logical following of human interaction. She had all but said she loved me, and I'd asked if I could take a bath. Ultimately a small smile found its way onto her face, and I knew it was sincere._

_ "Sure, Maura. Mind if I run an errand while you do?"_

_ "I won't be long."_

_ "Neither will I."_

_ It was just as well that she left, because otherwise I'm sure she would have heard me bawling. I don't often use that word in reference to myself, "bawling." It sounds so ugly and dramatic, but that's all I can think of to describe it. I sat in the hot water, trying to calm myself down, but my body was wracked with these awful sobs that reverberated off the walls of the bathroom, and surely would have reached Jane's ears no matter where in the house she was. Maybe my crying was so intense because the reasons for it were twofold, and diametrically opposing, at that. The fear that had coursed through every vein of my body while Hoyt was over Jane and over me was all-consuming even now; I had never been so petrified in my entire life, and it was still hard to believe it was over and that Hoyt was gone. But I also knew I was crying because I knew at last that Jane felt the same way about me that I did about her, and that now we could actually try to be together. I cried because she loved me and I planned on telling her how deeply and completely I loved her, and I hoped that it could be the best birthday present she ever received. _

_ After about twenty minutes, I had left the bathroom and was lying on my bed in a powder blue, cotton bathrobe. The maroon silk might have been a sexier choice, but I needed comfort at the moment—especially since Jane was gone and I couldn't be sure if she was coming back. To take my mind off it, I took my iPod out of my dresser and searched for a comforting song. What I wound up choosing was John Lennon's "Oh My Love," a piece of music I had never really been able to understand. The reason I had it on my iPod was because I knew it had been one of my parents' favorite songs—that was one of the few intimate details I knew about them, and it only served the purpose of helping me feel close to them whenever I listened to it, like we had a connection. My eyes closed as the lyrics washed over me, no longer going in one ear and out the other but through each of them, leaving an imprint on my mind. _

_ The song was about halfway over when I lazily opened my eyes and saw Jane standing in the doorway. I hastily sat up, pulling the ear buds out and she laughed quietly, walking into the room with a small plastic bag in hand. God, I love the way she walks. It's so sexy. Sexy and confident. She seemed more like the old Jane. _

_ "What were you listening to?" she asked, sitting down next to me on the bed._

_ I hesitated, then handed her one of the ear buds. "It's a song my parents used to dance to together. You'll think it's corny, but…this is the first time I've actually __gotten__ this song." She looked a little unsure, but put in the bud and I restarted the song. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her relax._

_**"Oh my love for the first time in my life/My eyes are wide open…/oh my love for the first time in my life/My eyes can see." **__She glanced over at me, but appeared nerved by the fact that I was looking back. __**"I see the wind/Oh, I see the trees/ everything is clear in my heart./I see the clouds/Oh, I see the sky/everything is clear in our world…"**_

_Over the instrumental bridge of the song, she handed me the small plastic bag she'd come in with and I opened it curiously. Fudge clusters. "You didn't have to get me something!" I said, but I felt a weak smile on my face and Jane seemed pleased. "It's __your__ birthday, you're the one that needs a gift!"_

_ She shushed me to hear the rest of the song: __**"Oh my love for the first time in my life/my mind is wide open…/oh my lover for the first time in my life/my mind can feel." **__She started crying softly again, but she was still smiling_. _**"I feel the sorrow/Oh, I feel the dreams/everything is clear in my heart/I feel life/Oh, I feel love/everything is clear in our world."**_

_"Jane, it's your birthday," I said imploringly once the song had ended, shutting off the iPod. She barely moved when I took the ear bud out of her and placed the device back in the drawer of my night stand. "Tell me what you want."_

_ "I want you," she said promptly, turning to look at me. There was a truly wonderful pause wherein she gazed at me and my mind started to feel every cliché quote that has ever been dreamed up about love. "I want you, Maura. I love you more than a woman has ever loved another woman." _

_ She said all this with a straight face, and I absolutely believed every word she said, and yet she just lay there. She didn't move closer to me, she didn't touch me, she didn't even make eyes at me. It dawned on me that she might be waiting for a response._

_ I reached out to touch her cheek; she closed her eyes and turned her head slightly to kiss the palm of my hand. "I want to be as straight-forward as I can," I said, and Jane's unwilling grin widened slightly. "Jane, you are…the one good thing in my life. Yes I have a fantastic job that I love and it's quite prestigious, but it would be nothing without you. It would be so empty without you… I wouldn't feel the same degree of accomplishment unless I was sharing it with you, I wouldn't anticipate going to work as eagerly as I do when I know you'll be there, and… your family, they're like the family I always wanted but never had. It all comes back to you." _

_ Still we just lay side by side, each of us, I think, waiting for the other to make a move. My hand remained on her cheek, catching a few more of the tears that were still leaking out of Jane's eyes. _

_ "I don't deserve you," she said in a gravelly voice._

_ "What? How on earth can you say that?"_

_ "He almost got you," she continued. "He almost ruined you, and it was my fault. I shouldn't have let you come with me, it was stupid, it was selfish. It was a dumbass, moronic thing to do and I can't believe I endangered you like that."_

_ "You saved my life, Jane."_

_ With a sharp inhale, Jane turned away slightly. "Maura, I'm sorry. I'm just so—I'm so scared of something like that happening again, with somebody else hurting you. You don't understand how it feels, sitting there and watching him…"_

_ "Excuse me, I know exactly how it feels," I countered. "I had to watch him cut you, Jane. I experienced it first, the looking on, feeling helpless. The difference is you stopped him, you got up and fought back. __I'm__ the one who's useless. You have no idea how it feels to ...feel so useless."_

_ She gave me that look, the one she often does when I've spouted a particularly erudite string of words that are a foreign language to her. "Useless?" she whispered. "Maura—Maura…you couldn't be more off." _

_ And she kissed me. It was tender, it was short, but she leaned closer to me and kissed my lips, and it struck me instantly that I needed to be around her for the rest of my life. It was over almost as soon as it had started. _

_ "Jane, what is it?" I asked. She looked so nervous._

_ "I can't get it out of my head," she stammered. "Him…almost doing that to you, him touching you like this, but so screwed up, so—so vile."_

_ "You…think I'm unclean?"_

_ "No! No, geez, no, Maura. It's me. I don't want to make you feel…"_

_ I certainly had no idea how she wanted to end that sentence, and I don't think she did either. All the same, I had a different kind of hesitation. Neither of us had ever been with a woman before; we didn't know how this was supposed to work. Furthermore, after the day's traumatizing events, I felt we shouldn't rush into things. _

_ "It's all right," I said gently, snuggling in closer to her. "Please, Jane… just kiss me again."_

_ I didn't give her time to comply; I just reached upwards and touched my lips against hers. She shifted herself slightly so as to hold me closer to her, and I could not think of words to describe how right this felt when I had spent so long worrying about how it could feel strange, foreign. Her mouth opened and closed against mine, yet her kiss was not invasive or possessive, or even voracious in any way. It was calm, almost tentative. Her left hand, the dominant one, trailed along one of my breasts but didn't linger there; she shifted it down to my waist as I continued to taste her lips. In a moment I was straddling her, pushing myself gently into her as she kissed my cheek, my jaw, my neck, my collar. She slid one hand underneath my robe, gently massaging the bare skin of my shoulder, before pushing against me slightly so we could break apart._

_ "Stay with me, tonight," she whispered. We had talked about having her sleep in the guest house. "I want you…please stay with me." _

_ A weak nod was all I could muster. Jane reached over to turn off the light, and I twisted slightly to get out of her way. I had nearly sat on the bag of fudge clusters, and before I placed it on the nightstand, I took one out and broke it in two. _

_ "Fudge cluster?" I offered, still able to make out a faint outline of her in the dark._

_ With a soft chuckle she took it, draping one arm around me. We ate in silence, I finished before her and waited. Once I sensed she was done, I lay down a little more and nuzzled into her. She kissed my forehead and I knew this would be enough. _

_ "Jane."_

_ "Yeah, babe?"_

_ "Happy birthday." _

_ She kissed my cheek and I could feel her smile. "See? Told you. Birthdays never turn out the way I expect them to_._ Sometimes for the worse..." Her eyes moved to the scar on my neck before she gently touched her lips near it, against my jaw. "Sometimes for the better."  
><em>


	5. Life Long Best Friends Forever

**A/N**: This may be my favorite one I've done before, if only because it comes from my absolute favorite WTF Jane/Maura moment of all time. No, not that llbffs garbage... earlier, when comparing herself to Giovanni, Jane says, "I'm _interesting_, AND you don't wanna sleep with me." And Maura gives her this look that so clearly says "Omg yes I do," and Jane raises her eyebrows and is all "_do _you?" You can tell she's excited at the prospect, then gets turned down. Sigh... Anyway, here's how I think this episode should've gone!

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><p>Jane would never have guessed that Giovanni Gilberti, the guy so gross he would do shots of snot on a dare, would be the person she'd have to thank for everlasting happiness. As it was, she was not initially pleased to see him when he slid out from underneath a truck in his father's garage to help her mother with her car. It was bad enough that he was there at all in his nasty, slimeball glory (the saddest part of it being he had no idea how disgusting he was), but things went from bad to worse when Maura felt impressed to compliment his physique.<p>

"Wow, look at his shoulder to hip ratio," Maura said flatly. "Lengthy metacarpals. You know what that means."

Before Jane could make a disapproving remark, Giovanni turned to look at her expectantly, prompting her to put on her worst fake smile and say "Hey, how ya doin'?"

"Great. _You _look hot as ever."

"Doesn't she?" Angela asked happily.

They continued in this vein for a short while, and Maura couldn't help noticing that Jane was fidgeting and awkwardly straightening her dress. _Does she want to look good for him? Her facial expressions indicated disgust and yet the rest of her body language would point to an attempt to make herself more presentable_. Then suddenly Maura felt Jane grab her and thrust her in front of Giovanni to keep the greasy guy from hugging his old neighbor.

"This is my friend, Dr. Isles," Jane said.

"You can call me Maura," said the doctor, somehow managing to keep a smile on her face even as Jane used that most painfully platonic of words to describe her. Well, might as well keep up this charade, then. "_I _don't mind a little grease," she said with a laugh.

But then Jane sidestepped in front of her, keeping Giovanni's primate arms away. There was something a little possessive in her stance and her voice when she said, "Well, what's a little grease between friends? …Ma's car died."

As he went over to take a look, Maura glanced quizzically at Jane. She had probably just read something into the situation that she'd wanted to; what would Jane care if Giovanni went for her friend? Unless _she_ liked him… but then Angela smilingly said, "Taking care of business while your father's away! What a good son! Right, Jane? And good sons make good—"

"Mechanics?" Jane offered. Maura grinned—maybe he just wasn't her type.

Before further awkward auto-related chat could ensue, the detective and the doctor received calls alerting them to a murder. With their car in the shop, Giovanni kindly offered the use of an old pile of junk he had restored to beautiful (if poorly colored) condition. Jane wasn't particularly eager to take him up on it, but when she saw the always-unexpected car-enthusiast geek in Maura come shining excitedly out, Jane reasoned that she had no choice. Taking the car was fine, but some other boundaries had to be set, here.

"Stay away from Giovanni," Jane muttered en route to the crime scene.

"No!...oh, this is a _dibs_ thing!" Maura laughed.

"A dibs thing? Really? Okay, tell me what you have in common with him." _If she really likes him, I think I might actually kill myself. I could stand losing her to somebody cool and respectable, but Giovanni? Really?_ _I mean_, "He's a blue collar… Boston Italian auto-mechanic."

"Well, so are you! Except for being an auto-mechanic. And _we're _best friends."

"Yes. But I'm _interesting_." Then suddenly her filter was off: "And, _you_ don't wanna sleep with me." Maura tilted her head with an expression that seemed to say _Yes I do, right now, in this car_. "…do you?" Jane asked, her eyes widening slightly.

"Well, if you must know, yes," Maura said. Jane, who had not been expecting a reply in even the same vicinity as that one, could not begin to think of her own response. Trying and failing to convince herself that it must have been a terrible attempt at a joke, she gaped wordlessly at Maura, who sighed and said, "I suppose this would have been one of those instances where the proper thing to do would have been to lie, or at least not be so blatantly honest. But it's the truth, Jane. I find you extremely sexually desirable; I have for quite some time."

_No. No, no, no, no, NO way_. "Wh—why are you only saying something now?"

"Because you asked me."

"You mean…" Jane's eyebrows slowly raised even higher. "All I had to do was ask you?"

"Yes." Maura furrowed her brow. "Your dilating pupils and excited tone suggest that this is something you would not be opposed to." She returned her gaze to the road. "Unfortunately we're about to arrive at a crime scene, which seems like an inappropriate place to discuss this any further."

"Geez, Maura…"

"What? Compartmentalize, Jane. It'll make your life easier. Work now, sex later."

The shock of this brashness hit Jane in the face like a hammer. "Sex later…?"

"Or we'll talk about it later, anyway. Come on, let's see what we've got!"

And as casually as though they had been discussing the plausibility of a rainstorm later, Maura stepped out of the car, and Frost immediately began to inquire about their pimped-out ride. Maura happily fielded his questions, but Jane felt like she was in a daze as she clambered out of the car and walked towards the police crossing tape. Surely she had imagined that exchange just now. Surely. _It's the truth, Jane. I find you extremely sexually desirable. I have for quite some time_. Heat flushed up Jane's neck just thinking about it…seriously, did that really just happen? Did Maura really just say that? She watched as Maura crouched down next to the victim, her hair falling over her shoulders and her incredibly toned calves bulking slightly under the pressure. Moving a few paces more to the left, she could catch a view of the doctor's rather impressive chest. Scholarly words were flowing from Maura's mouth and Frost was nodding, but Jane wasn't listening. That is, she wasn't paying attention to what was actually being said—she was focusing on the sound of Maura's voice, its gentleness, its reverence for the severity of the situation…and then Korsak hit her on the back of the head.

"OW! _What?_"

"Jane, I've only said your name about a dozen times," Korsak said, trying not to laugh. "Where are you?"

Maura had turned to look up at Jane, but the detective averted her gaze. "Here! I'm here, let's… get to work, people!" she said, for all the world as if everyone else had been the ones daydreaming and not getting their jobs done. "What've we got?"

Compartmentalizing was not one of Jane's fortes. Hard though she tried to focus on the poor dead girl in front of her, that brief and flabbergasting conversation with Maura kept forcing its way into her head. _Work now, sex later_. Again, she flushed at the thought. _Is she serious? Maura never lies …I guess she had no choice but to answer honestly to such a direct question. Did she not realize I was joking? _And now she felt like a terrible person, trying to hide an excited (if confused) smile when Maura had just announced that their victim had definitely been raped. _Yep_._ I'm going to hell_.

Korsak said he thought they should speak to the bartender of The Dirty Robber, the venue nearest the back alley where the girl had been dumped. Frost volunteered to stay back with the crime techs, but as Jane left to follow Korsak, Maura quickly got to her feet and said, "I'm coming with you."

"Why?" Jane asked nervously.

"…I have to pee."

Later, once the victim and all other evidence had been brought to HQ, Jane asked Korsak if he wouldn't mind talking to Maura about the case. She kept repeating Maura's words in her head—_work now, sex later_—and, much as they made her want to laugh, knew there was a good point to them. Both she and Maura were on duty, and Jane knew that even if Maura had no problem separating her personal life from her work life, it was a different story for the detective. She couldn't stand the thought of being so distracted when there was a rapist, possibly from the Navy, out on the loose. It was her job to stay focused, so down Korsak went to discuss the rape kit with Maura.

Unfortunately, this left Jane vulnerable and out in the open when Giovanni sauntered into the station with a carnation and heart-shaped box of chocolates. It was horrifying to think that such a grease monkey could be romantically interested in her, but it was even worse when he explained that he was there to see Maura.

"Huh?" Jane said dumbly.

Frankie, with whom she'd been fretting about their newly single mother, coughed and directed Giovanni where to go.

Maura was fairly amused when Giovanni showed up in her office, and on another note was delighted that he'd brought chocolate, because she was starting to feel pretty hungry. As he rambled on, she thought that this would probably be a good time to tell him that she wasn't interested, yet somehow she heard herself accept his offer for a date. _Well, maybe this is better. He'll see that we're obviously not suited for each other, and that will be that—no painful or awkward explanations! _Pleased with this plan, she sent him on his way, and sat down at her desk with the huge box of candy. She was so excited to see that they were all dark chocolate that was she sufficiently distracted from registering that the person now walking into her office and slamming the door after her was none other than her crush.

As far as Jane was concerned, seeing Giovanni go for Maura had been the straw to break the camel's back. She couldn't take it anymore; they had to have it out. "Okay, can we please talk now, Maura?"

"Certainly. To what are you referring?" Maura asked, still absentmindedly searching the box for any chocolates that might have almonds in them.

Jane grabbed the box out of Maura's hands. "Earlier, in Giovanni's car. You said you wanted to sleep with me? Remember that?"

"Oh. Yes, of course. Of course I do."

"How…" Jane tossed the box back on Maura's desk and paced in a small circle. "How are you so calm about this?"

"Because I've felt this way for a long time. I compartmentalized. I acknowledged that you would never have any romantic interest in me, I accepted it, and I've tried to move on." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I can see how this might throw you off, since these feelings are only just now being expressed to you. But rest assured, I've given it a lot of thought."

Jane hesitated, hooking her thumbs into her belt loops and stepping forward. "You've given…_what_…a lot of thought?"

Finally Maura caught on to the fact that this was no longer innocuous, curious questioning. Unfortunately, she mistook Jane's deep interest for mockery. "Jane, this conversation is painful enough without you making fun of me."

"Making f—Maura, I swear I'm not making fun of you. I just want to.. make sure I'm getting the whole picture. No holds barred."

"Leave. Now."

"Maura!"

"Let me make something clear," Maura said, walking around her desk and all but pointing a stern finger in Jane's face. "I don't like being taken advantage of, and I especially don't like my _honesty _being taken advantage of. Earlier today you asked me a very direct question, and if I'd lied my way out of it, I knew you would've been able to tell, so I gave you the hard, emotional truth. Hasn't it occurred to you that I'm covering up my disappointment and my embarrassment by trying to act nonchalant?"

Jane reached for both of Maura's wildly gesturing hands and smoothly interlaced their fingers. "And hasn't it occurred to _you _what a hard time I've had keeping my hands off you?" she asked in a voice almost like a purr. Looking Maura over, she chuckled softly. "There's an expression I don't think I've ever seen on your face before."

"I imagine I look quite surprised," Maura said.

"You imagine correctly, Dr. Isles."

"So…I was right before as well?"

"Regarding what?"

"That you didn't seem opposed to a more sexual approach to our relationship."

Their fingers were still interwoven and their eyes were still locked on each other, yet Jane's smile faltered. "I dunno, Maura," she whispered. "This kinda freaks me out, I mean I've never felt…um, attracted to another woman before." A long silence followed this statement, which Jane had expected to be filled by an echoing declaration from Maura. When one didn't come and Maura instead shifted her gaze to the floor, Jane hesitantly asked, "Have you?"

Another direct question. "Yes," Maura said. She slid her fingers out of Jane's and sat against her desk. "When I was at boarding school." With a shaky breath she added, "Didn't work out." A long silence followed this, as Jane wondered how tactful it would be to ask for more details (as Maura was clearly upset), and Maura tried to decide how much she wanted to share at that moment. "It ended pretty badly," she murmured. "And the funny thing is since then, I have never been interested in pursuing a relationship with a woman …until I met you."

"Maura, it…scares me how often you're on my mind," Jane said with a small laugh. And even though neither of them had ever professed anything close to romantic love until today, and they had never even kissed or approached intimacy in any way, Maura knew exactly what Jane meant when she whispered, "I want to do this right." She nervously brushed some hair away from Maura's face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I know you will," was the quiet response.

The point of no return had been reached, but unfortunately, the ladies would have to wait to actually cross it. There was a knock at Maura's door, and even though it was closed and the blinds were drawn, Jane jumped back as violently as if Maura had pulled a can of mace on her. It was just as well, too, because the lab worker didn't wait for an invitation before walking right on in, silently handing Maura a folder containing a sheaf of papers. Maura thanked her and quickly opened it once the worker had left.

"What is it?" Jane asked.

Maura sighed heavily. "There's a match on the DNA we found in the semen. I hate to say it, but I'm afraid it _is _a sailor."

"I'll go tell Korsak," Jane said, hastily backing out of the room, thinking as she did so, _You moron, Rizzoli! What kind of person says all that and then leaves before even making a move? A coward, that's who! Maura must think I'm such a spaz! But this case needs to take priority, it…ah, screw it_. She turned back to go ask Maura if she could come over after work, and actually bumped physically into the doctor. "Oh! Hey, I was just going to ask, uh…"

"Giovanni is coming over for dinner tonight," Maura said, faltering under Jane's surprised gaze. "It doesn't mean anything, obviously, it's just—it's my way of getting rid of him!"

"By having him over at your house at night? Brilliant, he'll never see it coming."

"Well, he _is _repairing your mother's car at a discounted charge," Maura protested. "And he brought me those flowers and chocolates! It would be rude to just shoot him down in my office like that. So cold."

"Right. Unlike inviting him over to your house after work."

"Jane, trust me. He'll come over, I'll explain I'm not interested, he'll leave. Can we get a drink when you get off work? At the Dirty Robber?"

Pouting slightly, Jane said, "All right. But don't tell Giovanni anything about… this conversation we just had, okay?"

"I'll be discreet."

"And if he—I mean, he's a nice guy, but_ if_ he tries anything with you after you tell him not to, just tell me and I'll come kick his ass into next week."

Maura beamed and handed the DNA information to Jane. "Will do, detective."

Jane shyly returned the smile. "Okay. Now if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I have a suspect to call up."

After a lengthy and frustrating interrogation with a young sailor and Korsak, Jane couldn't wait to meet her lady for a drink. Walking into the bar, she felt her heart take a leap up into her throat at the sight of Maura sitting in a booth, waiting for her. There was a tacit agreement not to try anything with each other in public, partly because Maura wasn't a fan of PDA but mostly because both wanted their first romantic interlude to be private. Still, there was nothing private about the looks the women exchanged as Jane sat down, unless you were a completely ignorant, acne-riddled Naval boy.

"Are we the oldest people here?" Jane chuckled.

Just then the bartender walked up with a couple of drinks, and nodded behind him. "From the two gentlemen at the bar."

The ladies waved politely. Jane was not averse to taking a free drink, no matter where or who it came from, while Maura found the boys' attention endearing. After this happened several times, though, the bartender offered to stop bringing the orders over.

"No," Maura said as he walked obligingly away. "I don't like to be rude."

"Is that why you took Giovanni's Velveteen box of chocolates?" Jane asked, unable to keep a tinge of jealousy out of her voice. Maura narrowed her eyes. "What, did he get you a stuffed rabbit, too?" _Tool_.

After taking a long sip of her drink, Maura teased Jane by saying, "He's sweet." She had to chuckle when Jane gave a good-natured groan, then for no apparent reason transitioned the conversation to the tiny paper umbrella she'd pulled out of her cup. "Umbrellas in drinks started in the 1930s. Anything Polynesian was considered wildly exotic." _Like the things I plan to soon do to you in bed_.

Not missing a beat, Jane countered with, "Unlike Giovanni, wildly dull." Maura gave her a look as if to say, _why are you still harping on this?_, but Jane was difficult to placate and whined, "_Why _did you say you'd have dinner with him?"

"I already told you! Because he's giving your mother a great deal on auto repair."

Jane snorted a laugh. "Well, so long as that's your only reason, play with him all you like." A little more seriously, she added, "You _do _realize he's doing all this just to get laid, right?"

"Don't worry," Maura said coolly. Under the table, she nudged Jane's leg with her foot. "It's not going to happen."

Just then, Frankie came bursting into the bar to share the tragic news of another rape victim, causing Jane and Maura to once again flee romance for work. As the team processed the scene and got the victim carted away to a hospital, Jane couldn't help returning to a depressingly common train of thought: this job didn't lend itself well to relationships of any kind. Someone was always stressed, always worried about her. And what's more, there was just no stability to her work. A phone call could come at any time of day, when she was in a good mood or even an ecstatic one, telling her of another grisly crime that one human being had committed against another. Even on her time off, she was still haunted by past cases, or thinking of people she could be helping at that very moment instead of lazing around. She needed someone who could understand, who could comfort her… could love her and let her be. She needed Maura Isles.

As Jane hacked out more work with Frost and Korsak, Maura had Giovanni in her home. He was frighteningly illiterate when it came to manners, refinement, or culture of any kind, and as Jane had guessed, tried to make a move. Maura was only grateful for her ability to successfully turn him away, and as soon as he was gone, she called up Jane.

"Rizzoli."

"Jane, it's me."

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, he's left, I just…I can't wait. Please come over once you're done."

"Of course—I'll see you as soon as I can."

Maura's heart had been viciously hammering against her chest for the better part of an hour as she anticipated Jane's arrival. When the doorbell rang at half past nine, she had to silently remind herself of all the ways it would be scientifically impossible for Jane's mere presence to give her a heart attack, but that didn't stop her from wanting to faint when she opened the door and Jane walked coolly in.

It was hard at first to place why this felt so strange. Jane was walking the way she usually did; it was a sort of strut, with her hands placed casually in her pockets, the sultry, feminine aspect of it balanced by her more masculine attire. For pretty much the entire time Maura had known her, this was the way Jane Rizzoli entered a room. Cool, confident, sexy. The attitude hadn't changed. The swagger hadn't changed. Her intention in coming here tonight had, though.

As soon as the detective sat on the couch where Maura had indicated, she seemed to lose a bit of that self-assuredness: she hunched over slightly, clasped her hands together and stared at the floor. When Maura sat timidly next to her, Jane wondered why the doctor didn't make the first move. _She's the one who's done this before. She's the one who knows how to kiss a woman. But she's such a girl, she's going to make me do something first, I know it! _To be fair, Maura was internally beating herself up for not being able to make a move. For so long she had hoped to reach this sort of relationship with Jane, and now that it might be a possibility, she was terrified of how exactly to go about it.

"Half of me wants to laugh right now," Jane said in a gravelly voice, still staring at the floor and indeed allowing herself a chuckle.

Awkward pause. Then, "What does the other half want to do?" Maura asked seriously.

_You_.

Instead of saying that out loud, Jane finally turned and caught Maura's ardent gaze. "I feel bad," she muttered.

"What about?"

"I've had trouble keeping my mind on the job. I'm—I've just been really confused all day. I mean, I can't believe you never told me that you'd been with a girl before, Maura."

"Would you have acted differently around me if you'd known?"

"Honestly? Yeah. I think maybe it would have encouraged me a bit."

Maura bit her lip, pleased by Jane's interest, enough so to share one of her more personal, heartbreaking stories. "Then I guess I should have told you sooner about my old roommate, Inez. I know it must sound ridiculous, I was only seventeen, but I… I was in love with her, in that silly, teenage way. I liked boys, I made out with them, but what I really wanted was to be with Inez. She never talked about anyone she liked, and she was—well, I hate to stereotype, but she was fairly sporty, and not very girly at all. So I finally just told her how I felt, and it turned out she had been pining for me, as well. We started dating halfway through our junior year, and we lasted until graduation."

"Did you ever, uh…"

"Sleep with her?" Maura asked softly. She glanced up to see Jane purse her lips. "No. No, but we came very close, and I really wanted to, but I was too afraid. Then… after we graduated, she…" With a shuddering breath, Maura rubbed her arm and could not keep some tears from trickling suddenly out of her eyes. "She hadn't waited for me, I discovered. She had wanted to engage in a sexual relationship with me and I hadn't been ready, so she was sleeping with another girl from our class."

"How'd you find out?"

"I saw them."

"Oh, Maura…" Jane reached over and pulled her best friend into an embrace, which Maura tightened.

"She thought I was overreacting," Maura breathed between small sobs. "And I tried to have a more continental attitude about it, but I c-couldn't, I just _couldn't_—she betrayed my trust, she hurt me, and part of me feels like she'd wanted to hurt me all along." With great effort, Maura pulled back slightly, her heart melting at the sympathetic look on Jane's adoring face. "I know this sounds illogical, but that relationship poisoned me for a long time. No man since then has ever let me down in that way. I could always trust them, I could always feel loved by them. I'm not sure if it was a conscious choice or not, but I never felt an attraction to another woman again after that—I figured it had just been a combination of our close quarters, and the situation at school, and the recklessness of our youth. Plenty of girls were doing it at the time, experimenting, and all everyone ever seemed to talk about was sex. It's natural that Inez would want to have it, if not with me, with someone who was just as eager as she was."

Jane steadied herself, knowing it was time for her to say something but not sure exactly what would be the most comforting way to go about it. _Think fast Rizzoli, just say whatever comes to mind_. Moving back slightly, she moved her grip from Maura's arms down to her hands and did not wait for the doctor to look her in the eye again before she spoke. "Maura, there's a lot of things I'm not sure about. I don't know how quickly I could get used to this sort of relationship, or why I've never acted on my feelings for you. Hell, I'm not even _really _sure that I've never been attracted to a woman before; maybe it's my Catholic guilt that's kept me from ever acknowledging it. But I _am_ sure about this much." She gently took Maura's chin between her index finger and her thumb, tilting Maura's face upwards. Their eyes met and it was a wonder to Jane that her voice remained calm when she said, "I don't just want to have sex with you, Maura. I want to make love to you. I want to _be_ with you. And I would not ever, _ever _do _any_thing that could even fall in the same ballpark as hurting you."

"Oh," Maura sniffed with a shuddering breath. "You're so…sweet."

"I'm sorry I pushed you to tell me about Inez. That took a lot of guts to share that, Maura. And I don't mean your intestines," Jane added with a small smile. "I mean, it was brave of you to tell me all that. I…I really want this. It doesn't all make sense, but I want this. With you."

"Love is something that isn't always supposed to make sense at first," Maura said. "That's something I've noticed after years of careful observation. Sometimes that initial spark is inexplicable. All that matters is for it to make sense afterwards."

_Good enough for me_.Jane carefully snaked one arm around Maura's waist, pulling her closer, and put her free hand on the doctor's shoulder. There was an uncomfortable weightiness attached to this moment as Jane worried whether her smoothness (or lack thereof) could make or break it. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath until she leaned in and let it out close to Maura's jaw. The heat and the closeness of her breath sent a chill down Maura's spine, and she very nearly shivered when Jane's lips brushed her skin. The contact was almost too brief to even be called a peck, but her mouth had barely left Maura's jaw when she kissed her cheek in two different places. A fourth kiss allowed the corners of their mouths to touch, and Jane knew she had reached the breaking point.

Maura shifted her hands up to either side of Jane's face, and pressed her lips against hers. The kiss cut through all of Jane's worries about her job and her love life; it sliced in half any argument she had built up to explain why it would be bad for them to be together. It solidified her desperate need for this woman. She moved both arms around Maura's waist, pulling her closer; the doctor shifted so that she was practically sitting on top of Jane, never breaking their kiss. When Maura opened her mouth slightly for breath, she let out a soft gasp of surprise when Jane gently bit her bottom lip. This brought them into a new realm of kissing; even while Jane was too nervous to slip in the tongue, she was amazed at how invigorating it felt just to be opening and closing her mouth against Maura's unbelievably soft one. One hand trailed up Maura's arm again, resting on the back of her neck, where Jane was able to weave some of her fingers into the woman's silky smooth hair.

"Babe," Jane whispered against Maura's lips.

"What?" Maura breathed.

She didn't get a response (well, not a verbal one at least), even though Jane had a ready answer. More times than she would have liked to admit, she'd had to actively work to keep herself from calling Maura by some term of endearment. Now and then she had toed the line with "sweetie" or "hon," both of which had been passable somehow for one straight woman to say to another. "Babe" had popped into her mind just at this moment, and she wanted to call Maura that and hear her respond to it, to recognize it _as_ a term of endearment directed at her. It gave Jane a small but important sense of ownership—no, not ownership. Dibs.

"What're you doing?" Maura asked when she felt Jane shifting under her.

In one smooth move, Jane stood up, pulling Maura with her. "I'm taking this to the bedroom," Jane said in her most throaty voice before going in for another kiss. And that's where they walked, still kissing and fondling each other, out of the well-lit living room and into Maura's dark bedroom. The light from the other room made it possible to see, but still left the bedroom with a sexy, semi-dark ambience to it. When Maura felt the back of her legs gently bump against the bed, she faltered for a moment, then felt Jane's urgency increase slightly and they were suddenly both on the sheets. Jane hovered over her, kissing her slowly with a knee between Maura's legs. For her part, Maura reached up and simply tried to pull Jane as close to her as physically possible, nearly digging her fingernails into the woman's shoulders. This intimacy, this closeness was intoxicating. But just as Maura was thinking she could never get enough of it, Jane pulled back.

Both women were breathing shallowly, their minds spinning as they tried to wrap their heads around what had just happened. Jane had suddenly been overcome with a worrying sense of deficiency: she had literally no idea how two women were supposed to have sex. She was glad it was mostly dark, because it hid the blush crawling up her cheeks as she thought what a stupid problem that was.

"I don't know how to do this," she admitted quietly between breaths, still positioned over Maura.

"Do what?" Maura asked, before realization dawned her face.

Jane had to smile slightly at that, but a frown quickly returned. "I'm afraid of doing it wrong," she said, moving so she could lie on her back next to Maura.

The doctor rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. Jane was staring up at the ceiling and screwed her eyes shut, embarrassed. Confused, Maura said, "It was your idea to come here." (Jane winced at the word choice.) "To the bedroom."

"I know, I just…"

Maura gently took Jane's hand, turning it over to see the scar on her palm. Against her will, Jane opened her eyes and looked over; Maura met her gaze but then dropped it, caressing Jane's hand. "Jane, there _is _no wrong. Not here. But I do think it would be wise for us to slow down a little."

"Okay," Jane quickly agreed.

"Besides, you're probably exhausted from a long day."

"_Really_ long day," Jane muttered.

"But I want you to sleep in here with me."

Jane couldn't help but grin, recalling a conversation they had once had several months ago while lying side by side in bed. "Gee, are we having a sleepover, or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?"

Giving Jane a kiss on the cheek and cuddling closer to her, Maura said, "Both."

Over the next couple of days, the women decided to still keep their relationship and newfound bliss under wraps. Maura didn't see why it was such a big deal for two women to be together, but she acknowledged Jane's desire to keep an affair between co-workers secret, at least for now. Besides, Jane had argued, she wanted to find the right time and place to break the news of a lesbian relationship to her family. Though she had never been traditionally feminine, it would still most likely come as a surprise to at least her mother, and she wanted to be in control of how the woman found out.

Their other problem was Giovanni. He kept coming by police headquarters to see Maura, and nothing either she or Jane said seemed to make him go away. Finally Jane decided that enough was enough, and they'd take her mother's car to another garage if Giovanni was just going to keep stalling until Maura slept with him. Once they went to go put this plan into action, they were surprised to see that 1) Giovanni had actually finished the car (by putting his own distinct, tacky look on it), and 2) was clearly still hoping to get it on with Dr. Isles. When he suggested this idea to her with the air of Oprah presenting her audience with a boatload of free gifts, Maura took it upon herself to determine that the time had come for the flat out truth.

"I think we should just tell him," she said, glancing at Jane. "Don't you? Babe?"

_Well…I guess if it would get him off her back_. "Oh. Yes. …babe." Following Maura's cue, she sauntered over and put her arms around Maura from behind, resting her hands on the woman's stomach. _Ooh…this feels good_, she thought as she gently rocked Maura into her. _I'm going to have to remember this one for later_. Actually it took a ton of self-control for Jane to keep herself from full-on grinding Maura good and hard on the spot—there was definitely no need to get that intense in front of Giovanni; he only needed to get the point…which was proving frustratingly difficult.

"Jane and I, we're…" Maura started and stopped suddenly, not wanting to put words in Jane's mouth.

"Girlfriends," Jane said shortly, in slow speech like she was talking to an idiot. Which she was. "Like, _girl_…girlfriends. Maura is my woman." She missed the million-dollar smile on Maura's face at these words, and winked at Giovanni. "Get it?"

"Oh. _Oh!_"

Though he seemed disappointed that they wouldn't indulge him in a three-way or at least kiss in front of him, Giovanni seemed amiable enough about the whole thing and let them drive off without much of a fight. Jane had flirted with the idea of asking him not to mention this incident to her mother, but that felt too much like confiding something in him that she didn't feel her relationship with him quantified. It was odd, because he was the first person they told they were together, but Jane did not feel comfortable asking him to keep it a secret from her mother. Besides, he probably wouldn't see her in a while, right? They'd be bound to tell Angela before she ever saw him again.

This would've been a great plan if Angela hadn't gone over to the garage to bring Giovanni some thank-you cookies, and he asked her how long Jane had been interested in women, specifically Dr. Isles.

"What? Oh, Giovanni, you funny boy!" Angela laughed, patting his cheek. "Jane and Maura are just best friends, it's really kind of cute!"

"Yeah? Oh. It didn't seem that way when they came over here, making out in front of me and everything."

Cue Angela's hysterical arrival at Jane's apartment, where she happened to be eating lunch with Maura. "Ma! What're you doing here?"

"I just came from Gilberti's garage—Giovanni told me you two had been there to pick up my car, and he said you were dating!"

"He said _what?_"

"He told me you were making out at the garage!"

"Ma!" Jane said, holding a hand up to stop the craziness. "That is a bald-faced lie, we did no such thing! We… ma, he was hitting on Maura and he wouldn't stop. All we did was—we, uh—"

Maura quickly got to her feet. "We _told _him we were going out, it's true. I'd tried so many other things to turn away his misguided affection, but nothing was working. So we did it as sort of a last-ditch effort."

Seemingly placated, Angela started breathing normally again. "Oh. Aw, but Maura, didn't you like him? Isn't he a sweet boy?"

"Sure, yes, he's sweet!" Jane said before Maura could open her mouth. "Very nice guy, but ma, come on! He's not Maura's type, she needs someone—like, you know, someone who's more…" She wanted to say smart, but then realized that would make her sound extremely full of it. With a glance at Maura she said, "It wouldn't have worked out between them, can't you see that?"

Sighing, Angela sat down at the table. "I guess. But wait!" she said suddenly, her wide eyes staring at Maura. "Dr. Isles, you told Giovanni you were dating Jane? I thought you said you couldn't lie!"

Jane and Maura exchanged a glance, the doctor wearing an apologetic smile, and the detective breathing a sigh of defeat. Taking Maura's hand, Jane turned to her slowly smiling mother and said, "Ma, I've got something to tell you…"

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading! please know how ridiculously happy reviews make me :)


	6. Teach Me Tonight

**A/N**: hey guys! Here's another fun installment based on one of our intrepid ladies seeing the other in danger. I envisioned this sort of scenario following the Boston Strangler holding Maura at gunpoint...

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><p>Kenny Leahy had lied about his dialysis treatment.<p>

This was all coming together, it was all making sense—the Boston Strangler copycat wasn't Redmond Jones at all, I thought as I hurried down to the medical examiner's lab. "Maura, check it out, could you run this…" I came to a halt, stupefied, unable and unwilling to believe what I was seeing. "…blood."

Leahy had one arm around Maura and a pistol to her head. My immediate reaction was to graze my fingers against my own weapon (with the intention of firing six bullets into that man's head), but I was worried. I knew I was good, but probably not good enough to kill him before he had time to shoot Maura in the head. With a god-awful smirk, Leahy said, "You _are _a good cop."

"For a girl," I said weakly. He had his hand on her stomach, and somehow that made me want to kill him almost as much as the fact that he had her at gunpoint.

"All right, your gun, put it down—kick it over there."

"Don't do it, Jane," Maura said, her voice unnervingly steady. Here she was on the brink of death, and she didn't want me to endanger myself by giving up my gun.

My jaw clenched as Leahy yelled at her to shut up, and returned his gaze to me. "Put it down, slow." Of course I had to obey; one false move and Maura's brains could be splattered all over this room. I looked up at her to make eye contact for what I sincerely hoped would not be the last time. She had to know, she had to receive at least a fraction of an idea of how much I needed her from this look. Whether or not my message was really sent, her hazel eyes were staring deeply back into me, and I dimly wondered if she was trying to tell me something, too. I fought for a plan to come to me as I slowly placed my gun on the floor. When I kicked the gun away, I noticed my baseball bat propped up against a table, but Leahy's bullet would certainly act faster than anything I could do with a bat. It's a good thing I'm capable of keeping a cool head when necessary, because my first thought upon seeing Leahy and Maura like this was to shout at him to get off my girlfriend. Which was dumb, because Maura and I were just friends; she had no idea how much I loved her, and she might never if I made one bad move now…

But there was no time to guess. "You planted Redmond Jones's blood, didn't you?" I asked Leahy, stalling for time.

"Still got some," he gloated.

Then things got so bat-crap crazy that it's weird even just to recount them. Maura grabbed a scalpel from a nearby tray and jammed it into Leahy's leg so hard that a fountain of blood came gushing out in a jet-like stream. Suddenly I was like a woman possessed: I grabbed my baseball bat and ran over to Leahy, slamming it over his back a few times. Yes he was old, yes he was bleeding, and yes Maura had successfully incapacitated him already, but I had to make sure he paid—not just for his murders, but for nearly killing the woman I loved above all others right in front of me, for scaring both of us so badly. I had only hit him a couple of times when I regained my senses and straightened up.

Maura was crouched over him, and with a completely straight face said, "Home run." Did she just try to make a joke? She looked so serious.

Whichever way, I had to smile. "No, just a base hit." She managed to choke out a laugh as I got down to handcuff the demon on the floor. "You okay?" I asked Maura, turning to look up at her.

She appeared winded, as if she'd just run a marathon, but assured me she was fine.

As usual, that night she and I celebrated our victory at the bar, she with her standard glass of wine and me with a nice glass of beer. It goes without saying that our jobs (okay, particularly mine) require you to be a little insane. We operate inside of a world that depends on close contact with some of the country's most disgusting criminals —murderers, rapists, pedophiles, drug dealers, kidnappers. Yet I had always taken comfort in believing that for the most part, Maura was only around these vermin when they were safely dead. Seeing her held at gunpoint this afternoon had utterly terrified me. I had literally never been so scared in my life. If _I_ died, so be it. I put myself knowingly into dangerous situations every day, but Maura was defenseless, she would never threaten anybody. She was sweet, she was innocent.

She was beautiful.

We wound up talking about men, of course. We always do. All I wanted to do was reach across the table, take her face in my hands, and kiss her brains out. Instead, I flung around for something to say, something to take this awkward silence off our hands. I remembered the man she'd gone to dinner with and promptly diagnosed with Marfan syndrome: "Hey, did you ever talk to…Marfan man?"

With a smile, she said "Mm-hm. He called to thank me—he found a specialist. An international expert, actually."

"Really? Gonna see him again?" I asked, trying to sound casual. I cannot exaggerate my joy when she shook her head no.

"I don't date patients."

I snorted a laugh. "You don't wanna date him 'cause he has some weird-ass disease!" Anything to get at the truth, here. "You gotta stop doing that, you know? You've gotta stop diagnosing people!"

Laughing, she just held her hands up in defeat and said, "I don't—look, can we just talk about _your _love life?"

It would be weird to deflect the question, so I came up with a basically honest answer: "I date two kinds. The ones who hate that I'm a cop, and the ones who only want me to use the handcuffs."

With a small chuckle Maura said, "You just need to find someone who's a good balance of both. One who respects your career choice, and one who wouldn't mind occasionally getting into the more…playful aspects of sex."

I nearly blushed. "Maura!" I said, hiding my discomfort with a laugh and swig of beer. "Geez!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she giggled. "Are you not into that…?"

There was something about her voice that made my breath catch in my throat. She was teasing me, but I could swear that I heard a trace of flirtation, or honest curiosity. My mind's eye quickly conjured up an image of Maura handcuffed around one of my bedposts, with nothing but a strapless bra separating my mouth from her spectacular breasts. Had I continued in this vein for even a few more seconds, it's entirely probable that I'd have given myself away by flushing deep red and possibly staring at her chest. Fortunately, at this time, Grant happened to walk by our table to apologize for his incredibly obnoxious behavior.

Still, I wasn't going to let him off easy. When he congratulated me on the job, I said, "Yeah, well, when Kenny was trying to kill Dr. Isles here, I was looking for _you_, so you could have that arrest, too."

"I owe you a massive apology. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I can tell by the nasty face you're making," I said. It was true; his expression was the kind you'd have on if your date had just ripped a really nasty fart and you were failing to hide your disgust.

Maura explained that it was because of his blisters that Grant was making a face, not because of me. He was rightly impressed that she had guessed this, but it didn't make me feel that much better. All it did was make me worry that I was going to have to watch Maura make a move for him—an idea helped when Grant asked if he could sit down and he listened to Maura's eager "yes!" over my flat "no."

"I can take a look at your bulous regions if you want," Maura offered.

"Maura, come on!" I cried. She quickly apologized, and I tried not to blush. With Maura, it was hard to tell what was flirting and what was honest science talk. If she flirted with Grant in front of me, I think I'd just about be ready to die.

To be fair, he seemed to be sincere when he said, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry that we got off on such a bad start on our first case. And I wasn't cheating off of you on that catechism test."

"I saw you looking at it," I said.

"You saw me looking, but I wasn't looking at your paper."

What the…oh, geez. Maura grinned at me, but I had no idea what expression to try and go for. Perhaps recognizing this, Grant let me off the hook by getting up and leaving with a simple "See you soon." After he had walked away, Maura gave me an open-mouthed grin and kicked me under the table.

"Oh, shut up," I said.

"See? I was right! When will you learn to stop doubting my brilliant deductive skills?" Maura laughed. "I _knew_ he liked you back!"

"Brilliant deductive skills—isn't that the same as guessing?"

"Of course not," she said looking for all the world as if I had kicked her dog. Er, tortoise. "Deductive reasoning is based on conclusions drawn from highly logical and carefully constructed hypotheses. Guessing is just…"

"Pointless?" I offered. "Anyway, your carefully constructed hypothesis is wrong. Grant may like me, but I don't exactly return the sentiment."

"Oh, you don't?" Her face looked confused, but I thought I detected a certain perkiness to her voice. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking.

I shrugged. "Nope."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"Why?"

She didn't answer the way I had expected her to. I'd been waiting for some sort of response about how my _orbicularis oculi _widened at the sight of his gludious maximus or something, but Maura instead asked, "Well, if your track record with _men _is so bad, have you ever considered other options?"

"Other…what, you mean women?"

"Yes. So, I guess that's option singular, not options." She smiled and raised her eyebrows slightly, as if this wasn't awkward in the slightest to ask. "Have you?"

Oh geez. _Oh, geez_. I hate being put on the spot. Not that I would've necessarily had a good answer for this if I'd known in advance that she was going to ask me, but still! I had literally just seen her escape the jaws of death, and it had caused this huge upswing of affection—okay, obsession. Love.—in me for her, and now she was asking me if I'd ever considered dating women. This would be the perfect time to say it all, to finally admit it. I didn't even have to bring it up, she asked herself! Explain that once Leahy had been detained, you wanted to tell her how much you're in love with her! Remember when he'd held her at gunpoint, how scared you were for her life but also how scared you were that you'd never be able to tell her how you felt? Just say something, you useless, cowardly tub of whale lard! _Tell her you want her! _

Unsurprisingly, my internal pep talk did not yield very dramatic results. All I did was slowly say "No…" _No, I've never thought about dating a woman. Not until I met you, Maura Isles. _

With a shrug, she said, "Okay." I thought our conversation would then circle around to something normal, but then she said, "Can you teach me self-defense?"

"Can—what?" Good, Rizzoli. You're sounding brilliant tonight.

She paused again. "I see how my train of thought may have confused you. I apologize. I was just thinking it could be useful for me to learn some self-defense. I got very fortunate tonight—my assailant was a sexagenarian, and happened to be standing by a ready tray of makeshift weapons."

Without stopping to worry that it could be considered a romantic gesture, I leaned across the table and clasped one of Maura's hands between mine. "Maura, look, I don't want you to ever worry about something like that happening a second time. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you are never put in danger like that again." She was staring at our hands, possibly not listening to a word I was saying. Awkwardly I withdrew, sitting back once more. "Okay?"

A small smile inexplicably graced her features. "That's very sweet of you Jane, but let's be realistic. What you just said strikes me as a flawed syllogism."

"Meaning…"

"Meaning it seems to indicate that prior to tonight, you never took any measures for my safety," Maura continued calmly. "Would you say that's true?"

"Well—no! Of course not, Maura, we've always tried to do our best to keep you safe, I mean that."

Sometimes looking at her stupid hot face for too long was like staring into the sun: it was so freaking pretty it hurt. She looked apologetic, maybe worried that I'd thought she was accusing me of something. "I know you have," she said softly. "But what happened with Leahy—it was just bad timing. My estimate is that you and I figured out at roughly the same time that he wasn't our accomplice, he was our murderer. I trusted him just as much as you did, and it's quite possible that something similar will happen in the future. If it does, there's a good chance it'll be with someone younger and more fit. I want to take steps to be as prepared as possible to protect myself. Is that such an unreasonable request?"

I took a swig of beer. "Should just give you a gun," I said out of the corner of my mouth. When I chanced another glance at Maura, she was looking at me hopefully, like a kid asking his parents for a Nintendo at Christmas. I wanted to tell her no, that if she tried defending herself against an attacker, it might end up backfiring and only get her more hurt. But at the same time, I had to agree that it made sense for her to want to learn some techniques. She'd probably forget them all in the event of an actual attack, but if it would make her feel better… "Fine. I'll talk to Frost about it."

She'd opened the box and instead of a Nintendo, it was a lumpy hand-knit sweater from her blind grandma. "Frost?"

"Yeah, he's way good at like, judo or… karate, or something. Fighting. He'd be a good teacher."

"Jane, I want _you_ to teach me."

I'd been afraid of that. "Why? _I _won't be any good…"

"Sure you will. Besides, I want to start off easy. Frost would probably be too hard, don't you think?"

If possible, I'd like to blame the beer for my would-be blasé attitude. "Oh, you think I'll be easy on you?"

Maura's grin widened. "You'll have a very eager student." Dear _God_, please make her stop talking. "Let's do this, Jane. Show me how to go down on someone!"

That one got a legitimate spit take out of me. Beer trickled down my chin to the front of my shirt as I choked and stuttered for breath. Maura concernedly handed me some napkins, and it was mostly out of embarrassment to have spit dribbling off my chin in front of her that I took a few wipes at my face. I'm pretty sure I looked horrified; my jaw had dropped and I had difficulty getting it to work properly again.

"I can…teach you… to _take someone down_," I said very slowly and clearly. She smiled but raised an eyebrow, like she thought that's what she had suggested in the first place.

And that's how we wound up in Maura's basement on Saturday night, surrounded by the kind of exercise equipment I could never imagine her using. I had arrived at her house already in proper dress (a black sports bra and shorts), but I guess she must've been expecting me to be late because when I got there, she was dressed to kill only in the figurative sense. After she changed into yoga pants and a dark blue tank top, we headed to the basement and I thought to myself it was probably just as well that she wasn't baring too much skin—I could hardly take all this as it was.

"Okay, first things first," I said, standing in front of her. "Don't ever try to throw a punch against your opponent, even if it's another woman."

"Right!" Maura said.

Judging by her tone, I guessed, "You already knew that?"

"Well, naturally. My bones are fairly small, and I'd break them in all likelihood going in like that. So what's my next move?"

I stepped forward and took her arm. "The backslap was one of the first moves I honed in high school, but it depends on your attacker being pretty …well, trusting. He sees you're this feminine little doctor, and he thinks you won't be a match for him at all. So he goes for your arm, and soon as he does, you yank away…" I guided her arm in the direction it should go. "Then backslap him as hard as you can and go for the groin." Maura raised her eyebrows and smiled a little at me, prompting me to add, "Although if your attacker's a woman, it probably won't do as much damage. Anyway, give it a try."

Her arm was shaking slightly when I reached for it again, and she whipped it back and tried to slap me so fast I almost didn't duck in time. She mimed ramming her knee into my crotch, and I reacted instinctively—I stumbled and nearly fell. "Not bad," I said, and she smiled at the compliment. "Let's go through it again." We did it thrice more, her movements becoming sharper and more focused each time. Of course, that won't actually incapacitate him for too long, but it should buy you enough time to run."

"Oh! Running. I'm good at that. Now what if he attacks from behind me?"

"From… from behind you," I sighed. "Right, okay." Motioning for her to turn around, I wondered how best to go about this without losing my ability to keep my desire for her in check. Unfortunately my mind was on the blank, and on blind faith I practically ran at her and clasped my arms around her waist. _Stupid_.

My forearms brushed the bottom of her chest, which was heaving with labored breath that hitched on this close, uncomfortably intimate contact. In this position it would be so easy to kiss her neck; it was so close to my face and I felt nearly overpowered by the scent of her sweat mixed with the remnants of whatever perfume she might have been wearing earlier. Her arms hung at her sides, but I could feel how tense she was and wondered if she could feel it in me as well. I was only glad she couldn't see my face, even if I wished desperately that I could see hers, to know what was going through her mind at all of this.

"What should I do?" she whispered.

I wanted to tell her I didn't know, because my mind was seriously blank, frozen in fear. "Foot—go for the foot, the ribs, and my neck."

She moved much faster than I'd expected to, and harder as well. Not hard enough to actually hurt me, but she wasn't miming the movements anymore. Glancing down, she stomped on my right foot, and I impulsively slackened my grip, giving her the chance to elbow me on each side of my rib cage. Swiftly she turned around and took what can only be described as an amateur karate chop at my neck. This finally allowed me a glance at her face, and it was a strange mix of determination and amusement—which was a relief, because I'd been worried she was taking it harder on me because she was upset I'd practically been groping her. Laughing, I stumbled back and fell right on my ass.

"Hey, if I can take you down when I'm barely trying, I can't wait to see what I'll be capable of when I really get going," Maura giggled, extending a hand to help me up.

Without thinking, I took her hand and used it to pull her down to the floor. She let out a laugh of surprise and I quickly rolled her onto her back, straddling her and pinning her arms down by the wrist.

"Aha," I said, trying in vain to blow a thick strand of hair out of my face. "Now would you really be so kind to your attacker, to help him back up after you'd knocked him down?"

But she didn't laugh. I tried to, and the sound died in my throat. There was a ghost of a smile on Maura's face, but she was giving me this look that I'd never seen on her before—at least, not when she was directing her gaze at me. She shifted her right arm slightly and I released it, freeing her to reach up and brush the errant hair behind my ear. As she lowered her arm back down, I gently grasped it at the elbow. This sounds so corny, I know, but I was just drowning in those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers. Maura was still wearing an odd sort of half-smile, but it finally faltered when the hand of the arm I was holding reached for my bare abdomen. Some quiet, half-assed noise was choked out of me when her fingers grazed my waist, then my stomach. There was a very real, very palpable charge running between us, and I wondered vaguely if there was a scientific name for it. But that didn't really matter. What mattered was that I wanted to kiss her at that moment more than I had ever wanted to kiss anyone in my entire life.

And that's when I bolted. I, Jane Rizzoli, who has stared death in the face numerous times, chased down murderers, and killed more men than I'd like to admit, ran in fear from the look of desire on my best friend's face—and the fact that I was sure I was reflecting it.

I'd gotten hastily to my feet, leaving Maura on her back. She quickly sat up, looking at me curiously; we were both still breathing heavily.

"Jane," she said, standing as well. "I don't…"

I didn't even stop at the time to realize I had never seen her quite so flustered. I just took a few steps back and said, "Yeah, yeah, uh, good job. Really good. Let's pick this up l…another time, okay?"

She called once more after me, but her voice was soft enough and I was far enough up the stairs that I could pretend not to have heard her. Every fiber in my body was shaking; my fingers were trembling so badly that I dropped my keys when I tried to start my car. Once I finally got it started, I just drove aimlessly, not caring where I was going—I just had to get away.

What was wrong with me? Why had I left? For so long now I had been torturing myself, remaining silent about wanting Maura because I was so sure she would reject me. But tonight, she had definitely been the one coming on to me. I'd missed my chance, I'd freaked out—there's no way she'd want to be with me after I made such a royal mess of things just now. To be honest, it scared me how much I wanted her. Feeling her touch my stomach had sent this crazy, white-hot streak of desire through my entire body that felt like nothing I had ever experienced before. Even sex with men had never gotten me that aroused, that _aware _of every particle in my being begging to feel another pair of lips against mine, another body against mine.

About thirty minutes of directionless driving later, at a red light, I glanced to the left and saw St. John and Paul's. It was a beautiful old church building so ancient that my grandparents had been married in it. It was where my parents took us all every Sunday of our childhoods, it was where each of us had been baptized and confirmed. With a rueful chuckle I remembered it was one of the priests here who Tommy had nearly hit on his last DUI. This was where I'd always gone to confess my sins.

I pulled over and got out of the car to sit on a bench outside the church, my back to the building. If anyone asked me, I'd tell them I was Catholic, but in my heart I was never as devout as my parents wished I'd be. I do believe in God, though. I just don't know Him very well at all—certainly not well enough to know for sure how He would feel about me having a relationship with Maura. After sitting there for a couple of moments, my thoughts began to cohere again, and I realized that I was saying some sort of an internal prayer, almost.

_Help me know what to do. I love her. I need her. I want to be with her, but I got so scared and I'm trying to figure out why. Is it because that sort of love is wrong? Am I guilt-tripping myself? Or is it just because it could ruin our friendship, and she's the most important person in my life? I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I can't ask my mom for advice, or unload on Frankie. Dad's never liked hearing about my love life. It would be weird to talk to Frost or Korsak about it. Maura's my only real friend, she's the only person I could talk to about it and she's the only person I __can't__ talk to about it! What do I do? Please, help me!_

I reflected on the roller coaster ride of emotions that the last couple of days had taken me on: the exhilaration of finding out that Leahy was the killer, only to go down to Maura and see him holding her at gunpoint. My stomach coiled at the memory of her standing there helpless, looking at me as if she… as if she loved me and was trying silently to convey it. I remembered the blind rage that overtook me once Maura had stabbed him, how I had savagely beaten him with my bat for daring to threaten her. The obligatory drinks had been hard to get through at first, not helped by Grant's cameo appearance and my flat-out lie to Maura that I'd never been interested in women. Then, of course, there was the real mind-freak of having Maura touch me tonight in such a sensual manner. Her cards were all put on the table, and I'd run away with my tail between my legs.

I'm not sure how long I sat there; all I know is that at least once, the church bells struck the hour. Finally I got back into my car and saw that I'd left my phone on the passenger's seat. My mother had tried to call four times. The right thing to do would be to call her back, but I couldn't. Nothing could distract me from the possibly insane thing I was about to, because if I paused my adrenaline rush, I might never ride it out. I turned the car around and drove straight back to Maura's. It was past 11:00, but I knew she'd be there, and I knew she'd be awake. Even if she was asleep, I didn't care. This needed to be dealt with after I'd already chickened out.

Maura answered the door when my finger was still on the bell. "Where in God's name have you been?" she asked sharply. "Your mother says you haven't been picking up your phone!"

"You've been talking to my mother?" I asked, feeling a bit dazed. She was still dressed in what I'd left her in, which surprised me.

"Well—yes, she called to see if you were with me when you didn't pick up the first two times," she said, without a trace of embarrassment or awkwardness.

"Um…can I come in?" I asked in a low voice.

Her features softened slightly and she stepped back to allow me inside, shutting the door after me. "Look, Jane," she said in a startlingly different voice. "About earlier, I'm sorry. I acted foolishly, and if you want, we can just pretend that nothing happened."

"Nothing happened?" I repeated dumbly.

She nodded. "Nothing happened."

My head was starting to hurt. "Maura…no. We can't just say 'nothing happened,' because—what happened earlier was _everything_. _I'm _the one who's been acting foolish, not you, never you."

"You told me you weren't interested in dating women, and I made a boorish move anyway." How cute, she thought that'd been boorish. "Jane, your friendship means too much to me to ever risk trivializing it by—"

Grabbing her arms, I shut her up with a kiss. The weird thing was that even though she didn't kiss me back, I was in heaven. Her lips were soft, everything I'd imagined them to be. It didn't matter that at the moment, she was stiff as a board, possibly (and understandably) too shocked by my sudden course of action, even more than I was, to react.

Quickly I pulled away. "I love you," I heard myself say in a shaky whisper. "I've been holding back—out of fear, I guess, from stupid worries—but I love you, Maura. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you, and whenever you show up somewhere unexpectedly, my heart does this like, aerial flip!" She was looking at me as if she were truly concerned at the idea of such a vital organ performing acrobatics in my chest and with a sigh of exasperation I said, "_No_, not literally! I don't know of any literal way to voice how I feel about you!"

"You did already," she said. "Love might not be defined the same way by everyone else, and it may not be something you can see or touch or put under a microscope, but it's an emotion, and emotions are very literal. So _I'm _not exaggerating or speaking figuratively when I tell you that I love you, Jane." Even though my eyes were locked on hers, I could see that her chest was rising and falling heavily, though her breathing remained steady. "Say it to me again," she pleaded softly, leaning closer to me.

"I love you." I whispered it against her lips just before she kissed me on the mouth. She had one hand at the back of my head while the other stroked my face, and it was all I could do to try and bring her as close to me as possible. This was the closest in my life I'd ever feared I might have a heart attack, because I was starting to lose the feeling in my limbs and my heart seemed to be skipping beats—every time one of her lips or fingers shifted to a new part of me, I felt a wave of beautiful, numbing sensation wash over me. The numbness came from disbelief, I think: what had once seemed a most far-fetched fantasy had become a reality, instigated by Maura. How could I be so lucky?

Her hands had since strayed to my bare stomach, rubbing me in such a way that I was sure she'd be able to feel my muscles tensing and jumping around at her touch. "Jane," she nearly whimpered. "You're so beautiful."

"Oh, I'm all yours," I purred between kisses trailing down her neck.

I had since pressed her against the wall, and when she tried a couple of times to put her arms around me, I kept pushing them back, ultimately lifting them above her head and pinning them against the wall as well. Finally we had entered that world where comprehensible speech hardly existed, and there were no sounds but soft whimpers and moans. Our fingers intertwined and stayed that way until she teased my mouth open enough to slip in her tongue. Any and all of the numbness I had experienced was instantly consumed by fire as her tongue slid over and under mine, driving me to complete distraction. Keeping her hands hostage suddenly didn't seem so important anymore; I had her at the base of her neck, pulling her into me, and she was doing the same except she had grabbed me at the ass and my lower back. We continued in this vein for quite a while—for the second instance that night, time didn't seem to exist for me. All that mattered was that Maura wanted me, and she loved me as much as I did her. Both of us had been longing for the other, and the wait was finally over. I couldn't speak for Maura, but it had definitely exceeded my expectations.

After several minutes (five? ten? forty?), she took advantage of a rare break for breath to mutter, "Wait, wait, wait." Slightly unwillingly I pulled back, my hands now at her waist and abruptly aware of how winded I felt. My eyes searched hers for meaning, because she wasn't saying anything and indeed looked like she was about to just kiss me again, but then she closed her eyes for a few moments before speaking again. "I don't mean to kill the mood Jane, but… where are we going with this?"

She wasn't killing the mood at all; I was glad she brought it up. "I want to be with you, Maura."

"You told me earlier this week that you're not interested in dating women."

"Well, that's…mostly true. I'm _not_ interested in dating women. I'm only interested in dating _you_."

Sounding genuinely puzzled, she said, "But…you _do_ realize I'm a woman, right?"

"That's not what I mean," I chuckled. "I mean I'm not interested in dating other women because I've already found the woman I want to be with, and that's you."

With a shy smile, she said, "Oh." Placing her hands on either side of my face, she gave me another searing kiss, and it was so powerful I knew for sure that I would never tire of feeling it.

"Just one thing," I said once we'd broken apart. "Tell me you won't start every date by diagnosing me, okay?" When she pretended to frown, I laughed and said, "If it'll make you feel better, maybe you should just get it out of your system and tell me right now what you think any of my problems are."

One considerable pause later, she said, "You want to know what's the matter with you, Jane?"

I smiled. "What?"

And before going in for another, longer kiss, she said, "Nothing."

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><p><strong>AN**: For my next oneshot, I was thinking of covering "Money for Nothing," the episode from Season 1 where Zack Morris is Maura's wealthy ex. But then rewatching it, I realized that Maura and Jane are so _clearly _already a couple in that story arc, so there isn't one single one-shot moment to exploit. I think I may have to center an entire separate story around that whole episode. Anyway, I'm a glutton for reviews!


	7. The Hard Way

**A/N**: Jane Rizzoli plus a tie equals sex in a uniform.

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><p>There was a knock at the door. Jane limped over to answer it, quickly reviewing all of her pre-planned answers depending on who was coming to get her. She knew she ought to have been getting ready to receive her medal for her bravery, but she couldn't bring herself to go to that ceremony—eight people had died that day, all because she'd been blind to her co-worker's treachery. Her own brother had almost died. In her recovery, everyone had been very supportive, with one notable exception. Still, she did not want to go to this policemen's gig tonight, no matter what.<p>

If it was her parents at the door, she'd pull the "I'm sick" routine, and her mother would insist she stay in bed with some chicken noodle soup and a soap opera marathon. If it was Frankie, she'd just use the scary older sister voice that had intimidated him since childhood. If it was Korsak or Frost, she would tell them to accept the medal on her behalf on account of her still not feeling well. Seriously—if she wasn't considered fit enough to return to work yet, how could she be expected to get all gussied up and make a speech in front of the force and the press?

The problem was that she had no ready comeback for Maura Isles, who was the only person standing there when Jane opened the door.

"You look terrible," Maura said.

For lack of anything wittier to say, Jane merely mumbled "Thank you," and opened the door wide enough to admit the doctor.

"You're making everyone late!" Maura said.

Jane gave her a long, hard look. The reason she hadn't been prepared to tell Maura why she didn't want to go tonight was because she hadn't seen the woman in months. She couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of her voice when she said, "Even _you'd_ look bad if a bullet had gone through _you_." She slumped grouchily back to the sofa to finish her bowl of cereal, trying to calm the heart that was beating so rapidly at the sight of Maura in a tight black dress.

"The laceration to your peritoneum and small bowel _could _explain your jaundice color," was all Maura said.

"Okay, you _may not _casually discuss my privates," Jane grumbled.

Maura placed herself next to Jane on the couch. "It could also explain your irritability."

"Or maybe my irritability could be explained by the fact that—" She cut herself off abruptly, not sure of exactly how she wanted to continue. She tried silently to convey her emotional pain at Maura's three month absence, but the woman was just staring at her innocently, as if nothing had happened. "What's up, Maura?" Jane whispered, sounding hurt. "How…" _How could you leave me? _"How could you have been gone so long? I was starting to think you wouldn't be coming back."

"It was torture, Jane," Maura answered shortly, surprising the detective with such a quick, direct response. She herself was taken aback by her own dramatic language, but the words had come out of her without even thinking about them first. A lump rose in her throat, but she gulped it down to continue: "I… saw it happen. I was with you, before you ever regained consciousness, and then I…" Maura inhaled sharply and tried to laugh. "It soon became evident that you were going to recover, and that you would ultimately be fine, but I was so worried nonetheless…"

Jane set the cereal bowl on the coffee table. "Physically fine, you mean."

Maura averted her gaze. "You don't remember our last conversation?"

"Which, the one where was I trying to get you to save Frankie?"

"No, the one where I told you why I was leaving."

"N…no…"

A short sigh escaped the doctor. "I worried you wouldn't. Byron mentioned the possibility of trauma rendering your—"

Jane's heart fell. "Byron? You're on a first name basis with Dr. Sluckey?"

Maura appeared flustered. "Well—yes, I mean we got to talking quite a lot. Anyway I told you about my father."

"Your father? What, is he okay?"

"He is now," Maura said with another sigh. "Shortly after your… accident, my mother called to inform me that a tumor was discovered on his pulmonary tissue."

"His…lung?"

"Yes. I got leave and went to Marseille to see him and stay with my mother." She returned her gaze to Jane, and found herself fighting back tears at the emotional, sympathetic look on the woman's face. "My father was not a bad guy. He raised me the best I could, and I'm sure he made for a better dad than Patrick Doyle ever could have."

Jane reached out and put a comforting hand on Maura's knee. "Maura, why didn't you say something sooner? I feel like such an idiot, sitting here rambling about how you abandoned me when there was this crisis going on—"

"I didn't want to abandon you," Maura interrupted.

"That's not what I meant, I'm sorry—"

"No," Maura cut in. "You… you're my best friend in the world, Jane. And I can say that literally, because I have lived all over the world and never had a friend like you in my entire life. International telephone calls are expensive; I didn't want you to feel obligated to speak to me on the phone. I had my father screen my emails and show me only the ones that came from headquarters. He said I needed focus, and wouldn't have let me see any emails at all if I hadn't insisted about work. Besides," she said with a low chuckle. "Byron was getting quite persistent, and I was tired of it." A long silence followed her explanation, and she bit her lip as Jane stared at the wall opposite. "Did you think I'd been in Boston this whole time?"

"Yes," Jane managed, fighting a blush.

"Did you ever try contacting me?"

"Yes."

"Cavanaugh was the only person who knew where I was."

"Why? Maura, why're you acting so weird?"

She looked affronted. "Weird? I wasn't being weird!"

"It's like you fell off the face of the earth. Why didn't you tell anyone else where you had gone? Frost, or Korsak, or my mother? Ah, wait…" She snorted a laugh. "Now I remember. Ma said you'd gone out of town, but… that was one of the first things she said to me when she saw me, and I'd forgotten until now."

"I was afraid," Maura said. "I didn't know if my father's recovery would go well or not, and I did not want to impose my personal family problems upon my co-workers. It's a little overwhelming sometimes, Jane. Our unit, it's like a support group."

Jane glanced at the various gifts strewn about the room that she'd received from people at the office. "Yes, I know. That's usually seen as a good thing, Maura."

"Yes, but I'm not accustomed to that. I'm used to being able to just get up and leave and not have anyone ask about it—at least, not out of concern. I'm used to withdrawing without any inquiries about my destination or why I might be leaving. I'm used to being left alone."

_It hurt like hell without you here. I hate that you left without saying anything or telling me anything, but it's so _you_ at the same time—not stopping to consider that someone here might care about you so much. And then you go flying off to Europe to be with the parents who hardly raised you, because you're so forgiving, you're so sweet. Much more so than me; I'm still mad at you… but I can't stay that way, not when you're looking at me like that_. Maura had no concept of the power she held over Jane with that look, biting her bottom lip as her sorrowful hazel eyes bore into the detective's.

So instead of chewing Maura out for leaving, Jane merely said, "You should know that I am _not _accustomed to being left alone, not by my friends. Please… _please_ don't ever take off like that without making sure I know where and why you've gone."

With a strained smile, Maura took Jane's hand and said, "It's a promise." Jane grinned slowly back at her, and there was a tacit understanding that even though this was awkward, and even though there were still words that needed to be exchanged, things were all right between them for now. "Three months," Maura finally said, standing up and for the first time acknowledging the hovel around her. "You could've read all of Shakespeare. You could've learned Finnish." She waved in exasperation and amusement at the piles of junk that covered the floor."Instead you've become a platinum member of the shopping channel."

"Wait. Finnish—like _Finland_ Finnish?"

"Yes. To put it simply, keeping your brain busy aids recovery. Mind—body."

"Mind—business," Jane mocked her.

"You _are _my business."

Their eye contact dropped immediately at the exceptionally awkward thing Maura had just said. Well, at least Jane had found it awkward. Maura had a funny way of saying things sometimes—a sentence, even that last one, had the potential to sound friendly, normal, maybe jokey. But it had come off as strangely possessive, like it was Maura's way of saying _I want you to be mine_. Jane would soon discover there was a reason for that, but she wouldn't find out right away because Maura seemed too intent on getting them both to the ceremony.

She yanked Jane up by the hand, causing the detective to wince and clasp the place where she'd been shot. "Ow—no, Maura, I'm not going!"

"What? Why, you still have pain?"

_Grr, woman! _"No, I just like saying 'ow.'"

Completely disregarding the sarcasm, Maura continued to pull Jane towards the bedroom by her arm. "Could be due to intermittent obstruction due to adhesions. When was your last bowel movement?"

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Jane asked, torn between amusement and light disgust.

Maura gave her a knowing look. "I think you're avoiding." She narrowed her eyes as Jane simply smirked and returned to the couch. She asked where Jane's uniform was, and when she got no response, marched steadfastly on her own into the detective's bedroom. Jane had to smirk again to herself when she heard a cry of "Oh! It is dis_gusting _in here!" coming from the other room. Suddenly she found herself thinking of how her messy ways would drive Maura nuts if they ever dated each other. Would it be cute and endearing, or get old fast? _Not that we'd ever go there_…

Her thoughts were interrupted when Maura appeared with the uniform in hand: "Put this on," she said in a commanding tone.

"It makes me look like a man," Jane complained.

A tic in Maura's temple twitched. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I'm not a hero, Maura," Jane said in a gravelly voice. "Shooting yourself is not heroic."

"Well the people of Boston think it is!" Maura said, like that was the only thing that mattered.

"Eight people died. I don't want a medal for that."

"Five of them were bad guys, Jane!"

"Whatever," Jane mumbled.

Resigning herself, Maura placed the uniform gently on the couch and sat next to Jane. "This ceremony isn't for you." She tapped Jane's leg, and up it went onto her lap, as natural as could be. "This is for… your fellow officers, and your parents, and your community. You're a symbol. You are a _heroic _flesh and blood reminder of the thin blue line."

Jane gave her a smile, the kind that could melt the doctor's heart into butter (were such a thing physically possible, of course). "That's good." Maura reflected the grin until Jane's fell to the floor and she turned back to her computer. "You almost had me."

Starting to get frustrated, Maura stood up and said, "Okay. The hard way. Come on, Jane. On your feet."

Her tone indicated that she was not going to tolerate anything but cooperation. It reminded Jane a bit of Sister Catherine, the most feared nun at her elementary school—if a child reached the point where he was considered out-of-control unruly, he was sent to Sister Catherine and upon his return never acted up again. It was mostly the intimidation of this memory that got Jane to reluctantly stand up, and eye Maura nervously as the doctor grabbed her uniform again.

"Now are you going to put this on yourself, or am I going to have to do it for you?" Maura asked in an uncharacteristically low voice.

"Look, just tell me one thing," Jane begged quietly. "Why is it so important to you that I do this?"

Maura reached calmly for the zipper of Jane's hoodie, and to both of their surprise, she met no resistance from the detective as she began pulling down. "Because, Jane. Whether or not you are willing to accept it, _I _believe that you fit into the a-historical archetype of the hero figure." Once the hoodie was fully unzipped, Maura moved her hands back up to Jane's shoulders and pushed the garment off. She next reached for the hem of Jane's tank top, carefully pulling it up over the woman's head, so that Jane was now clad only in sweatpants and a black sports bra. "You deserve this, Jane," the doctor murmured, placing her hand gently on Jane's still-healing scar tissue. "What you did was incredibly brave and selfless, and your fellow officers and family just want to honor that the best way they know how."

"What about you?" Jane asked.

"What do you mean?"

_You're not my fellow officer or family_. "Is this your way of trying to make it up to me for being gone the last three months?"

This would have been a handy time to be able to read human expressions quickly. Maura couldn't tell if Jane wanted the answer to be yes or no, so in the Rizzoli spirit, she tried relying on her gut: "It's… my way of trying to let you know how wonderful I think you are, Jane."

One long stare later, Jane sighed in defeat and took her uniform out of Maura's hands, tromping into her bedroom with it. "I'll just be a minute," she said. "Please resist the urge to clean!"

Too bad; cleaning would have given Maura something to do to distract herself from listening to the delicious sound of Jane Rizzoli dressing herself. The TV was still on, and Maura searched vainly for the remote for a few moments. It really _was _gross in here. Ultimately she just walked over to the television and turned it off by hand, only to notice the remote hiding on top of the TV under a stack of Netflix envelopes. Curiously she opened the top one, and upon seeing the title, let out a shriek of delight.

Jane immediately came into the room. "What is it?"

"You've been watching _Project Runway_!"

Oh, how fun it was to see Jane flustered. "I thought it was something serious," she grumbled, avoiding Maura's eye as she finished buttoning up her uniform. There was a good chance that if she'd been able to meet Maura's gaze, she would have seen the look of pure carnal desire on the doctor's face: there was something about Jane's current state of dress that was even sexier than a few minutes ago, when she'd been in only a bra and sweatpants. Right now she was in navy, fitted slacks, with her unbuttoned dark blue uniform hung over a thin frame and regular bra. Her hair was wild but lovely, and overall she appeared as if she were preparing to undress to do something dirty instead of dressing up for a formal event. Eventually she became conscious of the fact that Maura was staring at her, but she just assumed it was a Sister Catherine sort of glare informing her that she had five seconds to finish her assignment or else.

"You gonna laugh now?" Jane muttered.

"About what?" Maura breathed.

Jane finished the last button and raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Well, you have two options: the fact that I've been watching _Project Runway_ or the fact that I look like a man right now."

"First of all, you do not look like a man," Maura sighed.

"Oh hold on, the transformation's not complete," Jane said, walking over to a small mirror and putting her hair up. "Regulation," she added, making a face. "Now. Man, right?"

Maura walked forward, slowly shaking her head. "Androgynous."

With an annoyed groan, Jane said, "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"I think it's sexy."

Jane could feel herself going red; she pulled out her tie and threw it around her neck, trying to think of a way to deflect but coming up empty. "You do?" she wound up asking, trying to scoff.

"Yes," Maura said seriously, watching in admiration the way that Jane cautiously looped her tie around. "A classically feminine figure combined with classically masculine energy is bound to be arousing to anybody." With determinedly calm fingers, she turned Jane slightly and straightened her tie, completely unaware of how hard Jane's heart was banging against her chest. It felt liable to leap out when Maura used the tie to pull the detective slightly closer and kiss her on each cheek. Heat flooded instantly from Jane's face to the tips of her fingers and toes as the small kisses swept through her, rendering her unable to move or even think. Her first conscious thought was of Maura's words, _You deserve this_… but her jaw remained wired shut, as did her lips, until Maura pulled away a few precious seconds later.

"Well," Jane said with a nervous smile. "I think you've been in Europe too long, my friend!"

Maura forced a laugh. "Perhaps."

Neither of them were quite sure of what had just happened. It made for a uniquely uneasy car ride over to the venue, though. They did not exchange a single word, but each tried passing off the silence as a comfortable, friendly one, and did a good job of convincing the other. Maura was silently chastising herself for making such a hasty, clumsy move. At the moment it had felt right, but Jane was so awkward now—clearly it had been a mistake. She regretted not having the courage to go for the lips; even if Jane would've been revolted, at least Maura could have known what it would feel like. Meanwhile Jane was drumming her fingers restlessly against the car seat, wondering how much she should read into Maura's actions. Maybe it _was _supposed to have just been an expression of a European, continental attitude… but something about her voice and the way Maura had looked at her seemed so sensual. She stole a glance over at the doctor, who appeared enviably poised and unembarrassed. _It probably meant nothing. I only read something into it because I wanted to. Hell, she couldn't even be bothered to contact me for three months… even if her father __did__ have cancer. Oh geez, I'm a jerk._

There was a big to-do once Jane Rizzoli finally arrived, but she tried her best to quickly find her table and not look anyone directly in the eye. She squirmed in her seat for several reasons: she still didn't feel like a hero, particularly in light of that young soldier girl; she couldn't see her father anywhere; she hadn't been in such a crowded place since her accident; and Maura was sitting right next to her looking unbelievably gorgeous in that tight black dress. Before she knew it, Jane was being summoned to accept her medal and pressured into giving a quick speech. Not having prepared anything to say, she worried that she only rambled. She tried giving credit to Maura, who in her opinion had been the real hero of that day. Without her ability to work capably under insane pressure, Frankie could have died—where was _her _medal?

Many hand-shakings and photographs later, Jane finally got the chance to catch up her mother and Frankie. She asked where her dad was, and she got the shock of her life when the response she got was that her parents were getting a divorce. Unfortunately this was not the time or place to discuss the matter, as it needed to be done in private and there was nothing private whatsoever about this ceremony. In fact, Jane soon found herself speaking with an old high school flame who was on leave from the army. He had aged well, and spent no time beating around the bush. He'd come here to see her. _Ma would be thrilled, she always liked Casey. Maybe I should follow up on this_. But then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Maura with Dr. Sluckey, Jane's trauma surgeon.

"_Really_?" she muttered. "Could this night get _any _worse?"

"Mm, thanks," Casey said.

"Sorry, not you—it's just… Maura said he annoyed her, too, and look at her! Why is she all over him? Oh geez, here they come…"

"Hello, Jane," Dr. Sluckey said cheerfully. "How're we feeling?"

With a strained smile that convinced no one, Jane said, "Oh, we're feeling fine. However, _we _cannot speak for everyone." She gently took Maura by the arm and pulled her a few feet away. "All the single guys in Boston, and you have to go for Lucky Sluckey? Argh…" Sitting herself down, she cringed and rubbed her scar tissue.

"Don't refer to Byron that way," Maura chided her.

"What—you were the one who said he was getting annoyingly persistent while you were in Europe!"

"Only because I completely agree with you when it comes to Byron having little to no interesting personality traits or engaging loquacious abilities," Maura said lightly. "Which is why it was such a nice surprise to discover he was so tender in bed—something we couldn't exactly partake in while I was on another continent."

Jealousy shot through Jane like a bullet, and it was an apt comparison because she knew just how it felt. "Ew!" she said, covering up. "That's like thinking about my parents having sex!" Gross as the idea was, it struck her: "My parents are getting a divorce."

"I know," Maura said sympathetically.

"I…I've gotta get out of here," Jane muttered, standing up. "You—go have tender sex with Byron; I am going home."

Maura got quickly to her feet as well, grabbing Jane's arm. "You know, you _do _need to boost your immune system, and sex is very good for that."

There it was again! No, no, this was a straight-up proposal! Maura had just offered herself up to Jane, simply and honestly and with a straight face. Jane's regular immune system felt fine; she needed a way to make herself immune to Maura's inadvertent advances, because they were starting to drive her nuts. She mumbled a "thank you, doctor," and made a beeline for the door. She'd been given a medal she didn't deserve; her very Catholic parents were getting divorced; and Maura was sleeping with Sluckey, which definitely meant Jane was only imagining that the doctor had been coming on to her. This night really _couldn't _get any worse!

Sadly, this was not the case. No sooner had Casey joined Jane in a private car than the one holding Abby Sherman exploded in front of them. The intense shock of it left Jane reeling, barely able to move; Casey had to pull her out of the car and away from the fire as she made desperate pleas to help Abby. In the chaos that had erupted, Jane suddenly heard someone calling out her name in fear—it was Maura, and her heart leapt at the sight. The doctor took hold of Jane and said "I got this!", freeing Casey to go help the other cops.

"Are you okay?" Maura whispered fervently, pulling Jane further away.

"I'm fine—I want to help—!"

"Rizzoli!" Cavanaugh called out. "You better go home, you're not cleared for duty yet!"

"I'll take her home," Maura offered.

"No, Dr. Isles, you stick around—we're gonna need you."

Frankie hurried over to take his sister, who looked so horrified she may not have even heard or acknowledged Cavanaugh's comment. "Here," Maura said to Frankie, handing him a key. "Take her to my place, hers is a mess." He nodded and led Jane carefully but quickly over to a cop car and headed for Maura's.

It was only once they were inside the doctor's large and clean home that Jane seemed to realize they hadn't gone to her apartment. "Why are we here?"

"Maura told me to bring you here. Jane…you all right?"

"Fine. Yes, I'm fine."

"I know you wish you could be there."

They exchanged a sorrowful look, and Jane resignedly took her hair out of its uncomfortable bun. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. But you better go back, Frankie, they'll need all the help they can get." As if anticipating his next question, she said, "I promise to be good and stay here."

She stayed true to her word. After Frankie left, Jane carefully pulled off her hard, shiny shoes and left them by the front door. She lay herself down on Maura's couch, putting a hand under her shirt to massage her scar. A dull ache was centered there, and seemed to be seeping to the rest of her tired body, overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the last couple of hours. Jane may have been drifting in and out of sleep; she wasn't sure. At any rate, she had no idea what time it was when she sat up to the sound of the house's owner walking through the front door.

Maura sat herself on the edge of the couch by Jane's feet, and motioned for the detective not to sit up. Her eyes were red, and though Jane had been dying to know what exactly had happened at the crime scene—every detail, every lead—the look on Maura's face suddenly zapped her of any curiosity. It had been horrible and terrifying, and it was clear that Maura didn't want to relive it right now.

"I have to tell you something, Jane," Maura said thickly.

"What?" Jane asked nervously.

It was strange to see Dr. Isles fidgeting like this, her fingers interlacing and then pulling apart, her eyes moving all over the room before finally landing on Jane's again. "I wasn't entirely honest with you earlier. I didn't say an outright _lie_, but I obscured certain aspects of the truth, which was wrong." Intrigued, Jane sat up slightly, not sure if she should be excited or more scared. Maura was betraying nothing but uneasiness. "It's about Europe. My father was recovering and I'm glad I was there to be with him, but… it hurt so badly not to be with you."

"Don't be stupid," Jane said. "Your dad's more important than me, and I was fine, like you said."

Maura shook her head, suppressing the lump that rose in her throat. "That was the first time I worried you might not come back to me. I'm not—I don't want you to get the wrong idea, because doing what you did was the most selfless act I've ever seen, but… you can't possibly fathom how horrifying it was to run outside and see you ready to shoot yourself."

"I remember you saying my name…"

"Screaming it," Maura said with a soft chuckle, trying to calm herself. "I don't know why I did, it was a melodramatic thing to do but I was so afraid…" Two fat tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks, and Jane was too dumbfounded to try and comfort her. "I did a lot of thinking while I was in Europe, I hypothesized before I left and concluded that I was correct in thinking absence would in fact make my heart grow fonder for you. But something else happened. One of my mother's friends happened to know of a job opening in Marseilles for someone with a set of medical skills and experience like myself, and…"

"Oh God, no," Jane whispered, reaching out and grabbing Maura's hand. "Please tell me you didn't take it, Maura, _please_."

Again, all Maura could do was shake her head as she bit her lip, fighting back more tears. "I said I needed time to think about it. I love my job here, Jane, but I also love you—I love you so much it hurts, and it hurts not to be with you. Sometimes I thought that if I could get myself far enough away, so far that I wouldn't see or talk to you every day, eventually I could get over you. It's too hard being around you constantly and knowing that you don't—you won't—"

"Wait, wait," Jane interrupted. "Maura… Maura, listen to yourself. Are you giving me an ultimatum?" She couldn't believe what she was saying as the next words came spilling from her mouth: "If I don't return your feelings, you'd pack it all up and go move to _Europe_?"

"It sounds awful when you put it that way," Maura said, still trying to catch her breath. "But you have no idea, Jane, how much it hurts. I mean how…" More tears came out, blinding her to the entirely empathetic look on Jane's face as she choked out the next question: "How can you love someone and not be able to be with them?"

Jane surveyed Maura carefully. "I've been asking myself that for the better part of a year," she finally said. "I can't believe we're having this conversation, I mean… you've always been with all these _men! _All I could do was stand aside like an idiot wishing I had whatever it was they had, because they got to be with you."

"Don't ever wish that," Maura said. "It's because of what _you _have that they _don't_ that I want to be with you."

They looked silently at each other for a long time, unable to ignore but not wanting to ask the _what now? _that was so clearly hanging in the air between them. Did that exchange really just happen? After months of silent pining on both sides, they had reached an agreement about where they wanted their relationship to go? Jane slowly swept her legs over the side of the couch so she could move closer to Maura, but the doctor sat still as a statue, still terrified by what she had just admitted. A switch seemed to go off in her brain as Jane leaned forward, surely with the intent of kissing her.

"What if we broke up?" she eked out in a strangled voice.

"Maura," Jane whispered, her breath trailing against the doctor's lips. "That's a terrible way to start a relationship." And she kissed her.

Maura succumbed immediately. She had never been kissed like this. Every romantic or sexual gesture had been judged as nothing greater than a biochemical reaction, nothing but natural course and endorphins. But now she _got it_—she understood why people liked to speak in extremes when discussing love, why they got so poetic and became enamored. They knew how it felt to be kissed this way, by someone they were deliriously in love with. Jane was shifting, moving her arms around Maura's waist to pull her closer, into a deeper kiss.

"Wow," Jane said softly when they had broken apart. "I can feel my immune system getting boosted already!"

The only reply she received was one of Maura's megawatt smiles before the doctor went in for another kiss. There was a wonderful rhythm to their movements, as if each of them knew exactly what it was the other wanted, and Maura wondered to herself if that was due to the fact that they were both women. She moved herself slightly so she could straddle Jane, but in so doing, accidently knocked against Jane's scar.

"Ah!" Jane whimpered, pulling back and slipping a hand between them to protect the sore spot.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Maura said, starting to move off.

"No, no," Jane said, keeping Maura in her current position. "Stay, just… be careful." With a sad sigh, she added, "I don't think I'm going to be up for doing anything too strenuous for a while."

Maura nodded. "I understand."

"But…" Jane rested her hands on either of Maura's legs, taking the time to admire the skin that had been exposed by Maura's ridden up dress. "We can do a bit more." She didn't wait for Maura's assent; she just caught her in another, more passionate kiss. Maura tangled her fingers in Jane's beautifully unruly hair, murmuring "I love you"s against her skin. "Oh God, I love you too," Jane breathed, marveling at how much the woman was turning her on.

"I hate that it took something so awful to bring us together like this," Maura said, resting her hands on the back of Jane's neck.

"Yeah," Jane murmured. "But it'll make a good story, won't it?" She grinned hesitantly, and Maura reflected it. "There's something romantic about it, right? You being won over by my selfless defense of all mankind?"

"Mm…I'll decide that once I see how you treat womankind."

"Do you want to find out the easy way or the hard way?"

Maura laughed, planting another kiss on her detective. "Any way you want it."

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><p><strong>AN:** Hope ya liked! Reviews are love! Also, I apologize for how long this update was in coming. I've been working a couple of other things- Rizzles fan videos on youtube (check out my profile for a link- I'm a dweeb and love making videos!). And if you're a fan of _Bones_, please check out my crossover I started with it and _Rizzoli & Isles_!

Also, a few people have fairly pointed out the inaccuracies/problems in this chapter, lol. First of all I admit that I wasn't totally clear about the Maura/Sluckey thing. In my head, they hooked up before Maura left for Europe, and at the medal ceremony, she was mostly using him to try and gauge Jane's feelings towards her. Looking back, I realize that totally wasn't clear. When I have some time, I may come back to this chapter and re-tool it to make a bit more sense! It's nowhere near perfect and I totally realize that. It was rushed.


	8. Not my Type

**A/N**: So I was going to re-edit that last chapter, but have been profoundly lazy in getting that done and wrote this instead. It's from our wonderful "I Kissed a Girl" episode, only here, Korsak and Frost aren't listening in to Jane's dates like creepers. mostly because I didn't feel like writing them in.

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><p>This was one undercover job Jane would definitely not be telling her family about. She smirked as she imagined it: a lull in the conversation at Thanksgiving, when every aunt and uncle and cousin and grandparent was jammed into the place.<p>

_"So Jane!_" Aunt Bianca would ask. _"Any exciting cases lately?"_

_ "Why yes! I get to hang out at a lesbian bar to try and catch a killer after my partners created a profile for me on a gay dating website! Oh what fun it will be!" _

Yup. This one was best kept under wraps. It was no big deal. To her traditional Italian Catholic family, this sort of undercover venture might seem recklessly sinful, but to Jane, it was just another day on the job.

Or it was until she saw Maura there as well.

Jane had checked in at the front door, then quickly made her way to the bar, making sure to avoid eye contact with any of the other patrons. But something animalistic took over her when she caught sight of a luscious waitress with her back to Jane: high-heeled shoes led up to deliciously sculpted calves, which supported a fantastic pair of legs that were thankfully mostly bare due to the shortness of the woman's skirt. The skirt also flaunted an ass so tight it was almost unreal, but that was nothing compared to the chest Jane saw when the waitress finally turned around. But then—

_Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD. It's Maura_.

"Your table's ready, miss," Maura said with a broad, impish smile.

Her corseted cocktail waitress outfit pushed her chest up so beautifully that only two thoughts hit Jane at once: she had never wanted to faceplant something so badly, and that she certainly didn't want anyone else ogling Maura. Somehow she managed to speak: "Oh, my G—put this on," she muttered, shrugging off her jacket.

"No," Maura said, looking offended. "I'm undercover!"

Jane didn't know how she'd be able to handle going on a slew of fake speed dates when Maura would be constantly hovering in the background. The impossibility of staying focused on the task at hand was proven unnervingly fast—on the first date, in fact. Jane had to sort of pity the girl, Miranda, who had clearly been a closet case for a long time and was annoyingly perky. Too perky to be a murderer. She had been rambling nervously for several minutes before finally asking Jane how she had come out.

"Um. Well. I…"

Maura had walked up out of nowhere. "Ladies, can I get you something to drink?"

At the sound of her voice, Jane had turned, but not expected Maura to be leaning over so that her boobs were right in Jane's face. Again, she was struck simultaneously by two thoughts: _this is it, Miranda, you're witnessing my coming out moment_; and _how the hell have I never wanted to touch Maura before?_

After a few seconds, Jane realized Maura was staring quizzically at her. Briefly she returned the gaze, then tried her best to appear unfazed as she looked back at Miranda and said, "No, we're good."

Reaching for Miranda's empty glass, Maura asked, "Can I take that for you?" in a voice that was adorably sweet.

"We're good, right, Miranda?" Jane asked in a monotone as Maura walked away.

The poor girl tried bravely to smile. "My real name's Marianne."

Jane managed to smile back. "Okay. Well…you seem like a very nice girl, Marianne, but…"

"Is it because I don't have a big chest?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm more flat-chested than that waitress you just stared down."

"I—I wasn't staring her down!"

Marianne seemed to be on the verge of tears. "You're all the same!" she cried before vaulting to her feet and dashing out of the bar.

Before Jane had time to recover from the surprise of this dramatic exit, Marianne's vacant spot had been taken by an older, much more confident woman. "Sandra Stewart, and I don't know what that kid was thinking," she said with an ugly smirk. "You are _way _out of her league."

"What makes you think I'm not out of yours?" Jane coolly shot back. Considering she was undercover to try and catch a murderer, it had not been the best way to gain this woman's confidence, but something had overtaken her—first of all, rudeness had never been a way to Jane's heart, and she was unimpressed with Sandra's tactic of hitting on her. But mostly she was so internally agonized and confused over her sudden, very intense attraction towards Maura that she could hardly think straight. _Ha. Think straight_.

Fortunately Sandra was too cocky to be insulted. "That kid was a baby dyke. I've got experience. I don't think she could handle you."

Amused, Jane husked, "You think I'm hard to handle?"

Sandra smirked again. "I always fall for girls like you."

Seeing as that could be interpreted several ways, Jane asked, "Like…what?"

"Smart. Tough." She leered and covered both of Jane's hands with one of her own. "Complicated."

Jane awkwardly slid her hands free, offering the explanation, "My hands are sore from… volleyball."

"You're gonna break my heart," Sandra said, though she was still grinning, as if she were looking forward to a challenge.

"What makes you say that?" Jane asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, women generally respond one of two ways when I flirt this heavy," Sandra explained. "Either they're impressed by my forwardness or they expect me to prove my confidence with some action. It's always an easy screw if they find my directness attractive, but I'm usually really drawn to the ones who are a bit ahead of me. It can be a dangerous game sometimes, my approach."

"How do you mean?"

"You heard about that girl who got killed here recently?"

"Katie Gaynor?"

"Yeah. She used to do the same thing, trying to pick up girls by being brash, only she was never really sincere about it. All she wanted was a good roll in the sheets, which is fine for some people. But you gotta watch out for some girls. If you make it sound like you're going to call and then you don't, they can get real pissed."

Jane arched an eyebrow. "Pissed enough to murder?"

Sandra shrugged and still seemed pretty casual, as if a recent murder victim was a totally normal conversation topic. "It's possible."

"Did she ever put the moves on you?"

"God, no," Sandra chuckled. "We had a friendly competition going."

"Friendly, hm?"

Though Jane's voice was skillfully calm and not accusatory, Sandra put her hands up and said, "Don't start barking up the wrong tree, now."

"Do you find women like it when you speak so disrespectfully of someone who was just murdered?"

Finally, the smirk dropped off Sandra's face, and she looked a little baffled. "No, but I do find they _dis_like it when women like Katie take advantage of them."

But Jane wasn't listening anymore. She had let herself get distracted on the job. To keep up her charade, Maura had been serving other tables, and one of the other club patrons was getting a bit too touchy-feely for Jane to feel comfortable with. Specifically, she had just reached up and stroked Maura's arm, and instead of jerking away, Maura smiled flirtatiously back. They were speaking to each other now, but Jane had never been any good at reading lips, so she had no clue what exactly their dialogue encompassed. However, it didn't take a genius to figure out what the girl might be writing on a napkin she went on to classily stick in Maura's cleavage.

"God…_damn_ it to hell," Jane muttered.

Sandra furrowed her brow and turned to see what (or who) Jane had been looking at—couldn't blame her; that waitress was pretty hot. "You may be more complicated than I thought," she said.

Jane snorted. "You have no idea."

She hesitated, then pulled out a business card and handed it to Jane before getting to her feet. "Call me if you ever work things out."

Soon after she left, Maura came by to pick up her glass. "Having fun?" she teased.

"_You _certainly seem to be," Jane grumbled.

"Well, you're causing quite a stir in the other patrons," Maura laughed. "Oops, here comes date number three!"

And indeed, here came the girl who was certainly the most inebriated of the ones Jane had met so far. She had blonde hair and was quite young, probably still in college. "Hey," she said with a cool smile.

"Hi," Jane said back.

"Do you come here often? You look familiar."

Jane groaned ruefully. "Oh, you're way too young to try using such an old line, sweetheart. What's your name?"

The girl chuckled. "Isabel."

"And Isabel, what's a…hot young thing like you doing in a place like this?"

She laughed again. "Same could be asked of you. If I can be frank with you, I think you're the hottest woman in this club."

"Well by all means, then, be frank," Jane said smoothly. Just then Maura walked by, cuing Jane to say, "Oh, perfect timing. Isabel, can I get you a drink?"

"That's all right, I think I've had enough at this point."

"Bring us a ginger ale," Jane said, winking at Maura, who smiled before dutifully leaving again. Jane couldn't help but watch her go, completely oblivious to the fact that her eyes were not the only ones gazing admiringly at the features Maura's short skirt flaunted so well.

Reluctantly Jane returned her sight to Isabel only when the girl let out a loud, sad sigh. "Okay, they were right."

"Who was right?" Jane asked.

"My friends. They said I wouldn't have a chance with you."

With her best attempt at a seductive smolder, Jane said, "Giving up kind of early, aren't you?"

Isabel tried to smile. "Well…it looked to us like you've been eying that waitress all night. It's like you're waiting to make a move."

Jane stared, trying quickly to come up with an appropriate response. Despite her sobriety, her mind was a complete blank. It would've been easy to lie and deflect, but Jane found herself wondering just how obviously she'd been ogling Maura, and who else had noticed. Maybe it would be helpful to get a real lesbian's advice on what to do here.

"Do you want me to help make her jealous?" Isabel said quietly, leaning forward.

_Say something. Say something! _"Uh…" _Nice, Rizzoli_.

Naturally Maura came back at that moment, once more leaning over Jane's shoulder as she placed the ginger ale in the middle of the table. Winking at Isabel, she said "enjoy," before straightening up and trailing a hand over Jane's shoulder, by her neck, before walking away. The detective could not fight a shiver at the close contact.

"Yeah, she definitely likes you," Isabel said, reaching for the ginger ale and taking a sip.

They had all they needed for DNA evidence now, so if Jane bugged this girl away, it wouldn't matter. Might as well go along with it, then. "How can you tell?" Jane asked, trying to sound like it didn't matter.

"Well first of all, I think anyone with eyes would like you," Isabel pointed out with a smile. "But she's the only person who's come even close to looking jealous at the women who've left your table so far."

_Only because she thinks they could be murder_ _suspects…_ "I think you'd better stick to ginger ale, kid. You're seeing things."

With a shrug, Isabel said, "It's possible, but I doubt it." She glanced at her friends, one of whom had just passed out. Two other girls were trying to lift her, and Isabel figured it was time to go help, and besides—"One thing I'm sure of is that plenty of other women in this club would like to be sitting where I'm sitting, so I ought to give them the chance."

"That's very gentlemanly of you," Jane observed.

Isabel bit her lip, then wrote her number down on a napkin and handed it to Jane. "If you want my advice, you'd better snatch up that woman quick, before somebody else does. Give me a call if you want help, or…anything else." She downed the rest of the ginger ale, then got to her feet, brushing Jane's leg as she went.

Jane dropped the napkin on Maura's tray when the doctor came by to pick up the used glass, and tried not to catch Maura's eye. "Oh my _God_," she groaned, pressing her hands hard against her eyes. _This is getting impossible! I don't know how much longer I can resist her!_

"I like tall brunettes."

Jane opened her eyes immediately and raised her eyebrows. Now sitting across from her was a dark, very beautiful woman. She blinked and tried not to sound like an idiot. "I'm Jane."

"I know, I saw your profile." _Well then, at least _some _good came out of making that stupid thing_. "I'm Claire."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, I've had enough to get brave. The next stage is usually weeping."

"That's okay, I don't mind."

Claire narrowed her eyes. Perhaps it was the alcohol that she claimed had made her brave, but she couldn't help herself from posing the question: "Why haven't you expressed any interest in any of the women who've come by your table so far? I was talking to the bartender, and she said you've kept turning them away."

Jane shrugged. "I haven't felt that spark yet."

"Do people come to clubs to feel sparks?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or do they come to get laid?"

"Depends on the person. Hell, it might depend on the day."

"Are you _sure _you're gay?" Claire teased her.

The answer to that question came when Maura showed up at their table, this time on Claire's side. She had to know what that outfit of hers was doing; Claire glanced at Jane, who was staring hungrily at Maura's ample chest.

"Can I get you anything?" Maura offered sweetly.

"Yeah, tell me something," said Claire. "You've been back and forth from this table, and I've seen you chewing the fat with our friend Jane here. What's the secret? How do I get in her good graces?"

Maura smiled over at Jane, who looked a tad dumbfounded. "Jane's hard to get to know sometimes, but if you keep at it long enough, she'll reward you for it."

Both Jane and Claire had the same thought—_what the hell does that mean?_—but Claire was the one who spoke. "That doesn't really answer my question," she chuckled. "How do I get a rise out of her? How do I make her passionate?" She grinned and softly patted Maura's ass. "Tell me."

In an instant, Jane was on her feet and had grabbed Maura's elbow. "That's it. Come on."

"Jane, what—?"

"Come on," Jane repeated, pulling Maura through the throngs of women. She held a finger up to the bartender, signaling that she'd be back in a moment, before practically pushing Maura out the front door. "You need to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop taking it! Stop letting these women harass you!"

"They're not harassing me," Maura laughed. "Besides, I'm undercover!"

"Oh, you're undercover, so it's okay?" Jane asked, bristling with anger. "What if those were men in there, pawing you, trying to feel you up, huh? Would you be fine with that, Maura? All the women in that club have one thing on their mind, and it's getting you out of that dress and into their bed."

Maura stared back in a surprised silence. "All of them?" she asked quietly.

"Uh, pretty much! And I've had to watch th—"

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to take me out of this dress?"

_Yes. Yes. Yes. YES. _"Well—no, not _me_, of course. I'm not…y'know."

"I wish you would."

"What—what the hell, Maura!"

The doctor sighed. "All right, yes, it's been getting to me! Concentrating on work has been difficult with all these women eying me and trying to touch me, and asking when my shift ends! If you'd speak up or do something to protect me just once, I knew they'd be scared off, but then if you _did _do that, it might intimidate possible murder suspects from wanting to come talk to you, because they'd see how possessive you were!"

"You're too late, they've already seen it," Jane heard herself saying.

"Seen what?"

"That…" It was her turn to sigh. "That I don't want anyone else looking at you."

"Anyone else…but who?"

"Me," Jane choked out.

Maura opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out for several moments. "But—Jane—you _just _said—"

"I know what I said," Jane cut her off quickly. "It was a lie. I can lie, remember? Not like _some_ people! So when you told me last night—in my _bed_, by the way—that I wasn't your type, I had this crazy notion that you were telling the truth!"

"Actually, it was a joke," Maura said, which immediately shut up the detective. "It's a defense mechanism, only it usually doesn't work because I'm not any good at telling jokes, even though you seemed to go along with it like it was a bit."

"Okay, wait," Jane said, holding up a hand. "What exactly are we saying, here?"

"Perhaps the atmosphere of Merch is getting to you," Maura suggested.

"I don't think that's it."

"Then…"

Jane took a step closer, forcing Maura to move back against the wall. "Kiss me," Jane whispered. _I have to know_. "Just kiss me."

Their lips touched and Jane could not believe she had never kissed Maura until now. She clung Maura possessively to her, as the doctor stuck her hands up the back of Jane's shirt, pulling her close as possible. Maura understood immediately why she had been feeling so uncomfortable every time she approached Jane's table in the club—she had been worrying that one of those other women would get to experience this: Jane's mouth on hers, Jane's strong arms around her. Maura could feel herself going limp as Jane kissed her neck and the skin burned; still propped against the wall, she hooked a leg around the detective and whimpered.

"God, Jane!"

Jane grabbed Maura's leg at the thigh and kissed her mouth again. "I don't know how you did this to me," she whispered. "You know I always go on my gut reaction. It never leads me astray."

Her lips were trailing downwards again, but Maura took her face in her hands and pulled her back up for a forceful, searing kiss. "I never would've guessed," she said once they'd parted for air. Her chest was heaving with deep breaths, and it took legions of self-control Jane didn't know she possessed to keep herself from staring again. "Thank goodness you act on those instincts."

"I think it's time to call it a night here," Jane said, nodding back to the club. "But you should see if you could talk the owner into letting you keep that uniform."

"You," Maura laughed, tweaking Jane's nose, "are wicked."

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><p><strong>AN**: Contrived? Yes. But sometimes, that's how I roll. It's taken me so long to update because (yes) of school, but fortunately I've been able to get a lot of Rizzles videos done for my youtube channel! Check out my profile for a link, because comments/reviews always make my day!

Also, I've got this weird idea for an AU story in my head, with Jane and maura meeting in the Old West. I just think bandit/cowboy Jane would be really hot, lol.


	9. But I Love You

**A/N**: So I think personally, this may be my favorite I've written, if only because it was inspired by what is probably my favorite episode- which is to say, last week's. I mean, oh my goodness. Could this show be any gayer? I started out pretty faithful to the episode, then just kind of let my imagination wander into how exactly Jane and Dr. Isles made up...

* * *

><p>These last couple of days had been a nightmare. Maura had been unable to sleep, just lying awake in bed replaying different scenarios, all varying in degrees of horribleness. She supposed it had began that night she'd thrown a little farewell dinner for Tommy, who was finally getting his own place.<p>

_ She had been disappointed that Jane hadn't stayed afterwards, just to talk or help clean up. It felt like it had been weeks since their last heart to heart, and there was so much Maura suddenly felt the need to tell her. Instead of Jane staying late, Tommy had come back once everyone else was gone, bearing a bottle of wine. Maura exclaimed that the wine was rare, and Tommy responded she was, as well. _

_ That's when he made the move that would change everything._

_ He had tried to kiss her, and Maura let him get heart-stoppingly close. She had stopped him just in time, but only barely, because it had been so near to the fantasy she had been toting around in her head lately—just with a different Rizzoli. They were both sufficiently embarrassed, and Tommy hasted to make an exit._

_ "Tommy, wait."_

_ "Nah, I got a lot of stuff to do, really." Despite himself, he hung by the doorway, giving Maura his best soulful, puppy-dog eyes. "You've been so good to me, though. Enjoy the wine."_

_ "Really, Tommy, please, I don't… I don't want you to…"_

_ "Please Maura, I feel like a jerk," he snorted, though taking a hopeful step inside. _

_ "Don't, please don't. Admittedly you acted a bit rashly, but…"_

_ "I just don't want you to think that came outta nowhere, Maura," he said seriously as he walked closer. "You're a beautiful woman, but you're so much more than that." Before Maura could say "I know," Tommy continued: "You're so smart and you've been so nice. I really like you, Maura."_

_ "I like Jane."_

_ The words had come out of her before she had a chance to process them, so she imagined the look on her face must have matched the utter surprise on Tommy's. He gaped wordlessly at her for a few moments, waiting for her to continue. How long had she and Jane been together? But as Maura's expression remained shocked, it dawned on Tommy that perhaps not even Jane was aware of these feelings that Maura had for her. And so he dutifully extracted himself, wishing no longer to impose on Dr. Isles. She had called out his name in a strangled voice, but softly enough that he could pretend not to have heard her. This was going to take a while to get used to…_

Unfortunately Tommy didn't get much time to think about it, due to the fact that shortly thereafter, he was arrested on suspect of murder. He had put his faith in Jane to see to justice, and as was so often the case, she did not disappoint him. If he didn't love her so much, he'd probably be blind with envy: Jane had saved him thanks to her brains, her bravery, and the help of a woman who was apparently quite fond of her.

Jane had offered to drive him back to his new place, and after a few comfortable moments of silence, she suddenly said, "Okay. Now that you're off the hook for this whole bank-robbery-murder thing, there's something else I need to ask you about."

"Oh boy, _that _doesn't sound good."

Her voice was calm, but Tommy noticed Jane's grip on the steering wheel had tightened. "Depends. Maura told me your little interlude."

He squirmed slightly. "Ah. Um…how'd it come up?"

"We were arguing—"

"About me?"

"Well, only in that she didn't tell me you were a suspect before you got arrested," Jane cut in. "I was angry on your behalf, bro. I don't think friends should keep things like that from each other…"

_"Check your messages, I called you the __second__ that I could—"_

_ "You should've called me before he got arrested!"_

_ Despite Jane's clear (and admittedly understandable) hostility, Maura tried to remain calm. "Look, Title 18 forbids—"_

_ "I don't give a damn about Title 18!" Jane yelled in the tone she usually reserved for perpetrators. "There were ways to tell me without telling me!"_

_ Did she forget who she was talking to? Dr. Literal! "Really? The Justice Department could have indicted me for the mere act of disclosing my knowledge of their intent to arrest Tommy! That is ten years in a federal prison—plus the loss of my medical license!" _

_ "You didn't trust me enough to protect you," Jane said in a low, hurt voice. "And you didn't protect me."_

_ The profound look of betrayal and sorrow in Jane's eyes weakened Maura's heart. "Jane," she said softly._

_ But Jane was in no mood to listen: "And what's this I hear about you being with him when he was arrested? I can't wait to hear about that one—oh wait, I forgot, you can't talk to me."_

_ Her petulance was infuriating, but Maura forced herself to push aside her pride and explain. "He found me in the parking lot. He wanted to apologize."_

_ "Wh—what, 'oh, hey Maura, sorry I was the getaway driver in a bank robbery. Sorry someone got gunned down!'" _

_ "He wanted to apologize for trying to kiss me." _

_ Jane stared blankly at her, yet the gaze was so intense that Maura filed it away as a scrutinizing one. She knew Jane was studying her closely, but had no idea that the righteous indignation Jane was feeling was now confusingly mixed with a burning jealousy and irritation towards her brother. So she dealt with it the only way she knew how—a biting remark: "What, did Tommy make you sign a Title 18, too?"_

_ "We were embarrassed," Maura said flatly. "I thought it would be better if we just forgot about it."_

_ Jane wanted to know more, she wanted to know everything, but then Frost had come in with information about the case. Witnessing his loyalty had only caused her to flare up more at Maura, loudly accusing her of being a terrible friend. She felt the smallest twinge of regret when she saw the affect her words had on Maura, who quietly left the room looking heartsick… _

"Are you guys still, uh, mad at each other?"

Jane bristled at the question. Maura had redeemed herself slightly by helping so much to solve the case, but Jane wasn't completely okay with her yet. So she ignored the question and asked one of her own: "You tell me. What exactly happened between you?"

Tommy slid down slightly in his seat, recognizing Jane's interrogative voice. She had to keep her eyes on the road, but he knew that if she could, she would be glaring heavily at him. Feeling supremely uncomfortable, he said, "After that dinner she gave, I went back to give her some wine. A really nice bottle I found, I thought she might like it. And I… that's when I did it."

Suppressing a gulp, Jane said, "You kissed her."

"I tried."

"She stopped you?"

"Yeah."

"Was that the first time?" Jane asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was. And it'll be the last."

"You sure?"

With a heavy sigh, Tommy said, "I can guarantee it."

"How."

He snorted, knowing it wasn't a question; Jane had just left "tell me" off the front. "She uh, she…" Tommy wanted to say she liked someone else, but worried that Jane would tell her he'd said it, and he didn't want to pressure Maura into admitting anything she wasn't ready for yet. "She made it pretty clear she's not interested in me, all right? I swear that's all that happened."

"Okay, man. I believe you," Jane said, her tone suddenly light. Of course she just assumed Tommy was still covering up because he was embarrassed. Some part of her worried that he'd try again, and maybe next time Maura would be more receptive. These feelings were frightening her; she didn't know what to make of them. Was she upset because it'd be weird for her best friend to date her brother? _She'd kiss him, she'd_ _sleep with him_. The mere mental image of this caused her to tighten her grip on the steering wheel again. _He's not good enough for her. _But who was, really? _Am I…?Whoa, why am I even asking myself that?_

Tommy cut into her thoughts: "Look, will you make up with her? Don't take it personal what she did. She was just protecting her job."

"Yeah, okay," Jane sighed. "I'll give her a call later." True to her word, once she had dropped Tommy off, Jane dialed Maura's number and put her on speaker as she drove back to her apartment.

"Hello?" Maura said in a slightly wavering voice.

"Hey, Queen of the Dead! What's up?"

Silence. "Are you making fun of me?"

Jane sighed. "Listen, Maura, I wanted to apologize. I'm …I know you're my best friend, and that you'd never do something to hurt me. But—can you at least understand _why _I was upset?"

"Of course," Maura said gently. "It was awful not being able to tell you, Jane, and I seriously considered doing it. I hated keeping something that big from you, because you mean more to me than anyone else in the world."

Jane's heart skipped a beat these words, wishing she could know if they were platonic or not. "Sorry I yelled at you."

"Sorry I didn't tell you about Tommy."

"Yeah. Well, at least you had a pretty good reason for yours," Jane chuckled. "I'd be guilt tripping for the rest of my life if you'd lost your medical license on account of me."

"I know you would've protected me, Jane."

Another pause took hold, and Jane drummed her fingers restlessly against the wheel as she tried to think how to break it. "So… are we good now?"

"I think so."

_Think? _"Uh—are you doing anything tonight?"

"No."

"Great. Let's have dinner." When she didn't get an immediate response, Jane added, "Please? We'll keep it casual, just come over to my place."

"Okay."

"Seven?"

"Sure, Jane. I'll see you then."

As was her way, Maura arrived at seven on the dot: not a minute before, or after. Jane was making grilled cheese sandwiches, and Maura nearly melted. She wasn't sure why, but the simplicity of it struck her as oddly adorable.

Jane groaned when Maura pulled an excessively fancy-looking wine bottle out of her bag. "We're having grilled cheese."

"It goes with anything, it's a 1994 Chateau de Gard."

"Again? I'm so sick of that."

Maura chuckled, relieved at the simple act of being able to laugh at Jane's jokes again. "It's sheer perfection. I've only had it once."

Since she hadn't imbibed yet, Jane couldn't blame her ensuing emotions on alcohol. She had seen Maura in various states of dress (and undress) over the last few months, doing everything from yoga to jogging to changing a tire. But there was something quietly sexy about her twisting a corkscrew, apparently oblivious to how good her bare arm looked as it worked, a bicep bulging slightly with each turn. Jane fought to suppress the desire that had been simmering for quite a while and was currently threatening to come bursting out (on a figurative and literal level). Tommy had made a move first—if he really liked Maura, he deserved the chance.

"Listen," Jane said in a gravelly voice. "I don't want to stand in the way of a great romance, okay?" Looking bemused, Maura asked for clarification. Jane folded her arms, wishing this could be easier. "You and Tommy." She recognized and felt guilty for the bitter confusion in her voice when she added, "I mean, clearly opposites attract."

Very matter-of-factly, Maura pointed out, "It's an evolutionary strategy to ensure healthy reproduction."

"Okay, why do you gotta go straight to breeding, all right? With my brother!"

Maura just laughed as she poured the wine. "Look, I like Tommy. A lot. But I love you. And I hate it when you hate me, so I don't want to do anything to compromise our friendship."

It took Jane a moment to compose herself and reply. Maura had just said _I love you_. Jane knew immediately that this was the first time she had ever said it, because Jane would have remembered how unspeakably incredible it felt to hear her say it. Even if she'd just meant it platonically (which was still weird, since Maura had never said it during their friendship), Jane wished she could pretend even for a moment that it was intended to be romantic. But considering the follow-up sentiment of not wanting to ruin their friendship, it was difficult to interpret the statement any other way. _I don't want to compromise our friendship_ – but that meant even if Maura was attracted to Tommy on some stupid, evolutionary level, she put a higher value on Jane's feelings towards her… even though it hadn't been the almost-kiss that had compromised their friendship.

She could have no idea that Maura had once again let words slip out of her without letting her brain approve of them. It was true that she didn't want her friendship with Jane to be compromised—that's why she had yet to make a move—but she had only made that remark to camouflage the true meaning behind that "I love you."

Finally Jane managed to mumble, "Good, 'cause I hate it when I have to hate you."

Maura indulged her in a beautiful smile, handing her a filled glass and whispering "Sip it slowly" in what Jane could only describe as a bedroom voice. She was almost grateful that the wine was disgusting, because it gave her a much-needed distraction from what had just happened. It felt like they were finally back to normal again, bantering over the grossness of the wine and hatching a plan to make the store take it back. After carefully pouring the wine back into its bottle and enjoying their humble dinner, Maura knew it would be up to her to decide whether it was time to leave or how she could come up with a way to stay.

She wound up going with the latter. As Jane put their dishes in the sink, Maura said, "You know, it just dawned on me that we've never played chess together."

"Huh. That is true."

"Would you like to?"

"Now?"

"Sure, if you've got a set."

"Yeah, I do…"

"You're hesitant. Are you worried that I will completely embarrass you with my incomparable abilities?"

Jane glanced at the clock. It was getting a bit late, and she wondered if Maura was aware of it. Regardless, she couldn't refuse such a tempting offer: "Ha! You wish. I'll kick your butt, Dr. Isles—take a seat on the couch, and I'll get it."

Maura did as she was told, and Jane came back a few moments later with a ragged looking chess set under one arm. She grabbed a chair from the kitchen and put it down across from the coffee table in front of the couch. "Sorry the set's so shabby," she said, sitting down and opening the slender box. "Nothing chrome or pewter or whatever it is you've got."

"That's quite all right, assuming you've still got all the pieces," Maura teased.

"Yes, Maura, we're playing with a full set. Actually, I need a beer. Set it up?" She went back to the kitchen as Maura dutifully put the pieces in place. "I don't suppose you'd like one?"

"Well, now that you mention it, why not?"

Grinning to herself, Jane grabbed a second can before returning to her chair. Handing Maura her beer, she said, "Ah, I see you've set up the black pieces for yourself. Not very gentlemanly."

"Smoke before fire," Maura said with a smile, moving one of her pawns. A couple of minutes passed and neither of them had yet to lose a piece. As Jane's fingers paused over a rook, Maura murmured, "You're exceptionally good."

Jane smirked. "Told you." And with that, she finally took a pawn. Maura sighed shortly and took off her shoes. Jane stilled again as she picked up Maura's pawn. "Wh—what're you…oh," she chuckled, as Maura pulled her legs up onto the couch. "Just getting more comfortable."

"Yes, I sense we're going to be here for a while, and I didn't want to dirty your couch with my shoes."

"For a second there I thought you wanted to start up strip chess."

"Strip chess?"

She sounded curious, and Jane looked up at her. "You know, strip chess. Whenever your opponent gets one of your pieces, you um, you… take something off."

"Why?"

Jane shrugged, wishing she hadn't brought it up. "Because it's… sexy, I guess? Like a really long strip tease."

"Well what if you were playing with someone really terrible? Would they finish the game mostly naked?"

"Hm. Well, a lot of the time, people don't make it very far. Usually just leads to sex and one unfinished chess game."

Maura narrowed her eyes. "If you're trying to distract me, it won't work."

Jane barely noticed when Maura captured one of her pawns. "Distract you?"

Maura fought a blush and didn't answer. In time she untucked her legs and sat in a normal position again. Several minutes had passed without either of them exchanging a word; the atmosphere wasn't totally uncomfortable, per se, but it was borderline awkward. The silence had lead Maura to reflect more on what had happened that day, so when she spoke again it was merely a continuation of her train of thought, but Jane was a little thrown.

"Why'd you do it?" Maura whispered.

"Shoot, what?" Jane asked, having just moved one of her knights and worrying that she had gone into a trap.

"You were reckless today."

"Wh…"

"When you went up to Carl and David unarmed like that, being the hero."

Jane was now staring at her, but Maura kept her eyes on the board, as if still calculating her next move. "I was wearing a bulletproof vest."

"That's not a guarantee on your life, Jane, and you know it," Maura said abruptly. "One of them could've easily killed you with a bullet to the head."

"Yeah, they could have, but they didn't."

"You didn't know that going in!"

"Well no, I didn't, but—innocent people's lives were at stake, Maura, and nobody was doing anything about it! I couldn't just stand there and let it happen!" She had felt anger rising in her again, but quickly pushed it down again as she saw that Maura still looked sick. In a much gentler tone, she said, "Honey. What is it? Why're you so upset? I was just doing my job."

"Sometimes I hate your job," Maura said in a cracked voice. She bit her lip and finally looked at Jane, who appeared both sad and confused. "I mean I know you're so good at it and that you love it, and if it weren't for your job I would've never known you. This city needs you, but I need you too, and I hate when I hear about things like this happening and I'm reminded of your mortality, and how often you put in needlessly in danger…"

She averted her gaze again, but Jane continued to stare. "What're you saying?"

Maura shook her head. "I don't know, I don't know …I just find myself worrying about you, then reminding myself that you're so intelligent and talented, but then acknowledging that none of that prevents your bravery from getting you into potentially fatal situations. I meant what I said before, Jane. You mean more to me than anyone else I have ever known. I'd rather have you hate me than not have you in my life at all."

Her tone was reverent, but scared. Jane realized her mouth was hanging open slightly as she tried to comprehend exactly what Maura was getting at. "Maura, I… I don't know what to say. You're important to me, too, you know that, right? But part of my job is—"

"I know," Maura cut her off wearily. "I apologize; I realize that for you, this is all coming out of nowhere. It kind of snuck up on me, as well. It's your life, Jane, and you need to do what makes you feel happy and fulfilled. You need to do what you want."

Jane fidgeted, trying to remind herself to breathe as her heart hammered violently against her chest. "You want me to do what I want?" she asked in a low voice.

"Of course."

In one fluid movement, Jane got to her feet and kicked the coffee table out of her way. Chess pieces went scattering everywhere as Maura stood to meet her in an unbridled kiss. Jane's hands were possessively on either side of her face, trying to pull Maura impossibly closer; ultimately she moved one to the back of her neck and put her other arm around Maura's waist, all the while kissing her relentlessly. Maura impatiently tugged at the hem of Jane's shirt, and Jane reluctantly took her hands off the doctor so the garment could be pulled over her head. This left her in a white tank top, the sight of which caused Maura to bite her lip again.

"So does this not count as compromising our friendship?" Jane asked, her breathing ragged.

Also fighting to regain a regular heartbeat, Maura said, "Well—look at it as an opportunity for our friendship to grow in, in uh, different ways."

"In different places?" Jane suggested, her voice little more than an aroused rumble from her throat.

"Why, detective…"

Jane moved in for another kiss, pushing Maura back onto the couch in her eagerness. This was a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced before: it was so incomparable to any other romantic interlude that she couldn't even make that realization at the time. This was a new plane of being, of loving. Currently Maura's hands were buried in her Jane's hair, yet somehow Jane was able to feel her touch everywhere. Maura was on her back and Jane was on top of her, leaving a trail of hard kisses down her neck before stopping and sucking the skin near her collarbone. For her part, Maura was having a hard enough time trying to catch sufficient breath to moan Jane's monosyllabic name. In retrospect she would also become conscious of the fact that no one had ever made her feel so good: Jane was aggressively passionate in her actions (due, Maura thought, to some amount of sexual frustration), but she could tell there was more here than just mere animalistic desire. She could sense Jane's feelings for her, despite the fact that there was no way to scientifically describe it. If she hadn't been sure, she only had to wait a short while for Jane to confirm it verbally.

"Damn, Maura, you're so beautiful," she whispered before bringing her mouth back to Maura's again.

"Mm, so are you," Maura breathed when Jane had pulled away.

Jane moved down slightly, pushing up Maura's top. She pressed her hands against a firm, toned stomach, before bending down to touch it with her lips. A delighted grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as she could feel Maura hitching beneath her in response to these actions. The staggered breathing increased in intensity when Jane reached up with one hand, moving under Maura's shirt and cupping one of her breasts.

"Jesus, Maura," Jane growled against her stomach, rubbing her thumb over the erect nipple that Maura's strapless bra did little to conceal.

"Up," Maura panted, grabbing one of the straps of Jane's tank and pulling it. "Kiss me."

Too happy to acquiesce, Jane shifted upwards again, her hand remaining in place as she crashed her lips against Maura's. She faltered only when Maura lifted a hand and grabbed Jane's thigh, gradually drifting upwards.

"Oh God, wait," Jane moaned in a higher pitch than usual. She pulled her hand out from under Maura's shirt, but remained in position, half-lying on top of her. It was hard to concentrate on speaking, seeing Maura beneath her, flushed and breathing hard, hair and clothes mussed. "Maura, did you mean it—what you said before?"

"Which part?" Maura asked.

Jane gulped, trying to bring her lungs much needed air. "The—you said you really liked Tommy, but…"

"But I'm in love with you," Maura said.

"Love, like… _love_, love?"

"Yes," Maura said with a soft chuckle. "It's miraculous to think about when we hadn't even done anything prior to about five minutes ago, but it's been building up for such a long time. I love everything about you, Jane—your honesty, your loyalty, your kind-heartedness."

"Even when it means putting my life in danger?"

"I'd rather that wasn't a part of it, but I realize I need to accept it," Maura said.

Jane leaned down and gave Maura a long, tender kiss. "This must be love," she said quietly. "I have never felt this way about anyone, Maura. Never. I know I have a lot to be grateful for, like my job and my family, but you—you're everything. You're my best friend, my sister, my partner." With each new phrase of adulation, Jane left a kiss on Maura's face—her cheek, her nose, her jaw. "You are my guidepost, my queen …of the dead," she added with a small laugh.

Maura smiled back, then in all seriousness, said, "I want to be your lover."

"That's what I just said," Jane chuckled before going in for another kiss.

They moved much more slowly now, reveling in the feeling that they had all the time in the world. Both had gotten their feelings out in the open and had them returned, and that validation was the only thing that could have made this experience more incredible. Jane hesitantly teased Maura's mouth open with her own, and felt Maura shiver beneath her as she traced her tongue over Maura's. It stirred up feelings Jane did not even know existed, and she found herself wondering how much more she was going to learn in this regard from Dr. Isles.

"By the way," she murmured between kisses. "I was winning that chess game."

"Like hell," Maura snorted.

"Ooh, you better watch your language, Dr. Isles," Jane laughed.

"Or what?"

"Mm…I'll have to get back to you," Jane muttered. She could feel Maura's lips pulling into a smirk, but she didn't care. The cognitive part of her brain was shutting down completely as she lost herself in this ongoing kiss—and the relief was exactly what she found she'd been needing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Enjoy this week's episode! But I swear to God this is so random; I'd been wanting to write my own one-shot about Maura accompanying Jane to her high school reunion as like a date, and now they're doing a high school reunion episode. Of course. Guess I can still write it... anyway, reviews are love! :)


	10. Reunited

**A/N**: So...how could I **not** reference _The L Word _in this one?

* * *

><p>Dr. Maura Isles was typically not one to believe in absolutes, but she felt confident in categorically saying that she would not ever tire of waking up in bed next to Jane Rizzoli. This particular morning she had woken up to the sound of Jo Friday scratching at the closed door, and she shifted slightly to face it, smiling to herself. Jane was curled into her, and Maura turned again to look at her when she felt the detective stirring.<p>

"What time is it?" Jane groaned.

"8:30."

Jane turned to her other side and pulled the blanket over her head. "Go away and come back in ten hours."

"In ten hours you'll be at your reunion."

"No I won't," Jane yawned. "Casey can't come, he told me last night."

"So…"

"So there won't be anyone there that I like."

Maura leaned closer and kissed the back of Jane's neck. "Don't you like me?"

With a sigh, Jane rolled over once more so she could face her girlfriend. "Come on, Maura, why do you want to go so badly?"

"Don't you want to show me off?" Maura whispered, kissing Jane's collar, then her neck. These actions elicited a faint moan from Jane, encouraging Maura to continue upwards, catching Jane's lips in a kiss. The doctor grinned, enjoying the sensation of feeling Jane really wake up beneath her, the tiredness seemingly gone. In some slow, lazy eventual manner, Jane was eventually sitting up against the headboard with Maura straddling her, still kissing her. "Come on," Maura said in the same low voice. "Please?"

"Less talking," Jane muttered, her hands stroking Maura's bare thighs.

Neither of them were fully dressed, but at this moment, weren't quite as nude as Jane would've liked. The previous day's work had been extremely exhausting, to the point that all Jane wanted to do when she got home was fall asleep in Maura's arms. As per usual, she had gone to bed wearing nothing more than a tank-top and underwear, while Maura had settled for an old jersey and a pair of lace boy shorts—which Jane was now in the process of trying to remove. As her fingers hooked around the flimsy waistband on either side, Maura grinned and gently pushed Jane's hands away. She chuckled and rolled off the bed when Jane pulled an exaggerated frown.

"You're not going to take a shower, are you?" Jane asked as Maura ran her hands distractedly through her own hair. "Because you're about to get sweaty all over in a few seconds…"

"Nope," Maura said, ducking out of the way when Jane got off the bed to pull her into an embrace. "I showered before you got home last night. But I _do _really need to pee." She flounced into the bathroom without another word, but from behind the closed door announced, "If you need something to do while you wait, you could pick up the paper."

With an overdramatic sigh, Jane said, "Yes, Dr. Isles." She pulled her tank-top off and tossed it into a dirty clothes bag, opting to replace it with a low-cut robe. Tying it lazily, Jane shuffled to the front door and picked up the paper, skimming through the comics as she waltzed back to the bedroom. Someone else might have been confused about why Maura was taking so long, but Jane knew it was because Maura was terribly self-conscious about her morning breath and was probably brushing her teeth. Settling on the bed, Jane smirked and opened the newspaper, remembering when Maura had finally admitted that she often got out of bed to brush her teeth before Jane woke up. When the bathroom door re-opened, Jane lowered the paper and sucked in her cheeks at the sight of Maura wearing the boy shorts and a sheer white tank.

"Get over here," Jane husked.

Maura merely smirked and pulled Jane's chair away from her desk. She placed it at the foot of the bed, and motioned for Jane to come sit in it. Intrigued, Jane obediently sat, asking, "Are you going to give me a lap dance, Dr. Isles?"

"Not quite," Maura said, straddling Jane's lap and slipping a hand beneath them. "Although I sense that you're excited to see me."

"Mmm…understatement."

"Patience, detective," Maura purred in a voice that sent chills down Jane's spine, and she gently placed a hand against Jane's chest. "We need to have a little talk first."

Despite how fervently turned on she was, Jane tensed at these words. Lately Maura had been pushing her to think about moving in together, and though the hints were relatively gentle and the notion was grand to think about, Jane was nervous regarding the reality of it. She loved Maura and had told her this several times, but was hesitant to let go of her apartment, the one she had gotten and maintained on her own—and it would be silly to ask Maura to move in with _her_; it needed to be the other way around. Maura could never live in a dump like this, and besides, two people needed more room. Fortunately Maura had been very understanding and knew that Jane's hesitancy had nothing to do with doubts about their relationship; just nervousness about moving forward so quickly. Truth be told, Jane _had _been considering it more and more, she just needed to find the right way and the right time to bring it up. This hadn't felt like it.

But this wasn't what Maura wanted to talk about at the moment: "There are generally three reasons why people avoid their high school reunions."

Jane groaned, unable to believe that they were about to have this conversation while Maura was straddling her, and they were hardly dressed. "Yeah—one, they hated high school. Two, they hated everyone _in _high school. Three… uh, what's the third one?"

"Embarrassment over becoming fat," Maura sighed, sliding her fingers inside Jane's robe and stroking her toned stomach. "Although obviously that's not a possibility for you."

"Obviously," Jane teased her. Maura bit her lip, and Jane sighed. "Okay, okay, Dr. Isles. What are the other reasons?"

"There's fear of running into your ex, or that you're an abject failure. Why are you avoiding?"

"Abject failure," Jane muttered, looking down.

Maura frowned, tucking her fingers under Jane's chin and lifting her face upwards. "Don't say that, sweetheart."

Jane restlessly played with the hem of Maura's top, casting her gaze downwards again. "No husband, no kids, no South end brownstone—that was, you know, _the thing _when I was in high school."

"Mm, I can see your point," Maura said, stroking Jane's stomach with one hand and the hollow of her neck with the other. "Amazing, medal-winning detective with a body and a mind to kill for; not to mention a super-intelligent, super-attractive girlfriend, if I may say so."

"Oh, you may," Jane chuckled, running her hands up to Maura's hips and pulling her into a kiss.

"Come on," Maura whispered between kisses. "Show me off."

Jane traced her fingers over to Maura's backside, her fingers playing once again with the waistband of the boy shorts. "That's incredibly tempting, I admit."

"Then let me go with you?" Maura begged. "You'll need a designated driver so you can go drink with all your old high school nemeses."

"You _do _realize this is incredibly unsexy conversation for foreplay?" Jane asked.

"You're avoiding," Maura said in a sing-song voice, leaning back. "I'm sure you were very intimidating and made _some _sort of enemies in high school, didn't you?"

Jane groaned—Maura wasn't going to stop until they had completely exhausted this conversation topic. "Okay, fine, there was _one _group of mean girls. Debbie, and Emily, and Kate." Between each name she left a kiss near Maura's chest, hating as she did so that it reminded her of the reason a wedge had been driven between her and her former best friend, Emily.

"Great," Maura said, giving Jane's lips another kiss. "Let's go and show Debbie, Emily and Kate just how _stunning_ you turned out to be."

This was torture, not knowing how much longer Maura was going to delay their morning quickie (which was turning less and less into a quickie, Jane realized, if Maura was teasing her for this long). She slid her tongue into Maura's mouth, temporarily distracting Maura from her goal. A new fervor erupted between them, and Maura became what she called "primal." Her aggression was beyond sexy as she pulled Jane as close to her as possible, and Jane reached underneath Maura's flimsy top to dig her nails into deliciously bare skin. Nobody had ever quite brought out the animal in Jane like Dr. Isles, and the feeling was mutual—which, unfortunately, led to an uncomfortable realization on Jane's part.

"Wait," she said, forcing them to break apart. It was hard not to focus on Maura's flushed, heaving chest, her nipples even more noticeable than they had been several moments ago. But Jane was determined to have this out: "You just want to go all Jane Goodall on me at my reunion, because you were imprisoned in an all-girls school."

"I was hardly imprisoned," Maura said lightly, with a look that made Jane feel a bit jealous towards the classmates she'd had at that age. "But yes, I admit, the dynamics of a coed experience do intrigue me."

"No," Jane said softly, hating how hard it was for her to ever deny anything Maura wanted. It made her feel weak, even if ultimately that was a good thing. "I'm not going. And if I'm not going, _you're _not going."

This resulted in one of Maura's patented looks, which said "Oh really?" as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud. "Let's play a game," Maura suggested. Delicately she placed one hand at Jane's waist and the other at her neck, leaning in to kiss her. "We start kissing, but nothing is allowed to touch except our lips. Hands off. If I cave and touch you, we don't go to the reunion. But if _you _touch _me_, we are going. Deal?"

"So when you say 'touch,' do you literally mean anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

"Can I…touch myself?"

Maura raised an eyebrow. "If you think you can risk it without touching me as well."

Jane groaned softly. "You know you're going to win!"

"Why detective, I'm surprised at you giving up so easily."

"Fine," Jane sighed, silently pleased by the happiness this incited in Maura.

Maura counted them off, and on three, both women lifted their hands off each other. This was one of the hardest things Jane could have possibly imagined, and knew immediately that it meant she would never be able to let Maura use her handcuffs in bed. They had only been at it for a few seconds, and the inability to rest her hands on Maura's waist or thighs or breasts was driving Jane over the edge. Maura, on the other hand, was completely in her element: she had folded her hands behind her head and was leaning into Jane as deeply as she could, enjoying the fact that without the use of her hands, her level of arousal suddenly skyrocketed. An inferno was raging between her legs, and she tried to satiate it by grinding into her partner. Jane was fighting vainly for victory, her arms swinging dangerously close to Maura's body, but not yet giving in.

Nearly a minute had passed when Maura leaned forward and firmly gripped either side of the head of the chair.

"No," Jane said with a groan. "That is so not fair!"

"I'm not touching you, am I?" Maura asked, using her new position to more fully thrust herself into Jane.

"_God_, you suck!" Jane laughed, giving it up and clutching Maura tightly to her.

Maura was kind enough to reciprocate the action, but only for a moment. Then she stood up, chuckling as she saw Jane's hand shoot underneath her own robe. "I win," she said needlessly. "And now we're going to figure out what you're going to wear tonight!"

The hours until the reunion passed rather quickly, as time is wont to do when approaching something you are dreading. It took some convincing, but Jane eventually got the usually-punctual Maura to agree to arriving fashionably late.

"Jane, honey, you need to relax," Maura said as they sat in Jane's car in the parking lot, Jane mentally preparing herself to go in. "You have cheated death more than once, and here you are, terrified about seeing people you knew in high school?"

"You know why it took me so long?" Jane suddenly blurted out, speaking over the last few words of Maura's question. "Why it took me so long to admit how I felt about you? I didn't want all them to be right. Debbie and Kate started telling people I was this big dyke when we were juniors, and I hated them for nailing my biggest fear, my one insecurity. A lot of people believed them—I mean, I was this… athletic, man-voiced awkward girl who didn't care about clothes or boys or any of that. I didn't want them to be right, especially since they treated it like it was this horrible thing, like I had a disease. If I really _was _gay, then the jerks were right. I didn't, I dunno, I didn't want to be a cliché, and I guess I am."

"Jane, _nothing _about you is cliché," Maura said gently. "And there is so much more to you than just your sexuality, don't you know that?"

"I guess," Jane mumbled. "Just wish _they'd _know it."

"Look, Jane, don't let them define who you are," Maura said. "Show them the incredible person you turned out to be." Jane's eyes remained staring straight ahead, and she barely seemed to have heard anything Maura said. "Jane. If you really don't want to go, I don't want to make you. I didn't realize it would bring up such…"

Jane took her hand. "No. No, it's okay. Let's do this, let's show them."

Maura smiled, encouraging Jane to do the same and squeezing her hand. "Okay. We can leave whenever you want to, and once we do, I'm going to make love to you all night long."

That promise certainly gave Jane a much-needed boost, and with Maura at her side and clasping her hand, Jane led the way to the school gym. "Man, this is weird," she laughed. "I'm having weird, random flashbacks—Frankie and I used to walk to school, but we never left quite early enough, so we were always bookin' it across this parking lot." She missed the "awww" look on Maura's face as she chuckled and continued to reminisce until they got inside. Almost immediately they were apprehended by Giovanni, prompting Jane to mutter under her breath, "This is another reason I didn't want you to come!"

Not having heard the comment, Giovanni asked, "You two still uh…?"

"Together? Yes, yes, we are still…together." Jane reached out an arm, and Maura obligingly cuddled into her.

"That's nice you two are still together!" he said, sounding sincere. "Longest relationship I ever had was thirty-four days. Unless you count break-up sex—then it's thirty-five."

"Giovanni, don't be crass. Maura's a lady."

"Oh, I don't mind," Maura said with a smile. Sure Giovanni was a slob, but he was cute in a doofus sort of way.

Another old classmate walked up then; a woman Jane didn't initially recognize because of all the weight she'd lost. Maria had always been sweet, and still seemed to be, which is why Jane felt a little sorry to see her walk off with the skeezy Giovanni. She could have done better. But Jane didn't have time to worry about that—without thinking, she grabbed Maura's arm in a vice grip at the sight of someone else: "Reason number four people don't go to their high school reunions? Mean girl Debbie Nichols."

"Relational aggression," Maura deduced. "Typical of adolescent females. She's long past that, I'm sure."

"Maura, that girl made my life a living he—"

But Debbie was suddenly upon them, grinning in disbelief. "Oh my God, Jane Rizzoli! Or it's probably not Rizzoli now; it's Mrs…"

Jane raised her eyebrows, wondering if Debbie was still trying to torture her. "Mrs. …actually, Deb, you were right. Legally I _could _be a Mrs. if I wanted to, but Dr. Isles and I haven't quite reached that stage yet."

Now it was Debbie's turn to raise her eyebrows as Jane put her arm around Maura's waist again. "What do you mean, I was right?"

"Don't you remember? You told the whole school that Jane was a lesbian when you were juniors," Maura said before Jane could step in.

"Me?"

"Yes…" Jane said.

"I…" Debbie shook her head. "Wow. I'm so sorry, Jane. I hope you don't—oh, God, I feel terrible. You must hate me."

"Well, I admit I didn't feel very warmly to you at the time," Jane said through slightly gritted teeth.

"But that was so long ago, and—I was just being a stupid teenager, Jane, you understand, right? We thought it was a laugh, which it obviously wasn't, and I'm really, really sorry."

Before Jane could process the apology, a guy she'd liked quite a bit came up and put his arm around Debbie. "Don't tell me it's Jane!"

At Jane's gob-smacked expression, Debbie laughed, "I know! Can you believe it? Me and Eddie Tibbett?"

"Are you surprised because you were a member of the mean girls clique?" Maura asked, completely without guile. "Eddie, what clique were _you _a part of?"

"Oh, I was in the computer geek clique."

"Ah! Me too!"

Jane rolled her eyes and picked up a couple of name stickers, filling them out while the three others continued to chat. She had to admit it was pretty adorable to see Maura go into full-out geek mode—enough so that it warranted writing "geek" on her nametag and sticking it onto the chest her dress so nicely flaunted. They excused themselves shortly thereafter, Maura's excitement about tasting the punch distracting her from noticing Jane's pensive expression. Debbie had hardly remembered what she's said about Jane in high school, or that was at least what she claimed. Was it right to still hold a grudge? Were Jane's problems all really a result of the insinuations and the light bullying? _I could've turned out worse. And she's sorry… _

But just then, Jane noticed someone to make her heart nearly stop. She nudged Maura: "Come on, we have to go."

"But I'm getting punch."

Jane grunted and turned facing the opposite direction. She knew Maura would be looking in the direction she had just shifted from, so she helpfully muttered, "There. Purple dress, big boobs."

"Ah," Maura said. "Is that your _bête noir_?"

"If that means former BFF, then yes."

Maura took a sip of the punch. "BFF, or LLBFF?"

With a short sigh, Jane said, "Emily was my best friend, and she was the first girl I ever…"

"Had…a crush on?" Maura pressed her.

"Kissed."

"You—?"

"Yes. Just once, really quick, at a seventh grade dance. She was feeling all sad because she'd just asked this douchebag Rory Graham to dance, and he said she wasn't mature enough for his taste. She was crying in the bathroom saying nobody would ever want her, and I… made it known that wasn't the case."

"What did she do?"

Jane shrugged uncomfortably. "She didn't like, freak out that much. Actually she just thanked me and hugged me, but never brought it up again. Then in eighth grade she basically dumped me because who needed _me_ when she could get any guy on the planet with those things?" Jane glanced over at Emily again, and saw her greet a man with a kiss. "Aw, she married Steve Sanders. He was so sweet! …okay come on, let's go."

Her attempt to leave unnoticed was again thwarted as she heard Steve call out her name. She resignedly turned around. "Steve! Emily, hey."

"Wow, Jane, it's been too long," Emily said warmly, going in for an awkward hug.

"Yeah," Jane agreed weakly. "Um—this is Maura Isles, my—"

Giovanni passed by just then, winking at Steve and saying, "I know, right? Real waste, bro."

"Keep walking, Giovanni," Jane said shortly. Once he'd left, she said, "Dr. Isles and I are seeing each other."

Emily looked a little more surprised than Steve at this information, but she politely asked, "Oh! And how long have you been together?"

"Let's see, it'll be six months in about a week," Jane said, taking Maura's hand. "I'd gotten myself into a bit of a, uh, a scrape, and Maura took care of me. We had been friends before, but that's when it really hit me that we were supposed to be together; I mean it hit me like a ton of bricks. Or a bullet to the abdomen."

"Wait, six months—was that when you shot that criminal through yourself?" Emily asked.

"Ah!" Maura said all of a sudden. "I was trying to remember why you looked so familiar!" She turned to Jane. "Emily came by twice when you were still unconscious."

"The story was all over the news," Emily explained, looking a little embarrassed. "We were so relieved when you recovered. That was a very brave thing you did, Jane."

It was Jane's turn to feel embarrassed, and though she was moved by this unexpected concern, it was a bit of a relief when Emily said she needed to get back to the hospitality table. Steve hung back while Maura excused herself to get another drink, and he told Jane he really needed to talk to her about something. Curious, she gave him her phone number, but they were soon interrupted by a much less welcome classmate.

"Well, look who Stevie found! Roly Poly Rizzoli! Almost didn't recognize you. Heard you're a security guard or something."

Maura stepped back, fully aware that Jane was capable of defending herself but she couldn't let slide what seemed to be an intended insult. "She's a detective, actually."

"Don't bother," Jane said under her breath. "This is Rory Graham! And now my night is complete."

"If I had a nickel for every time a girl said that to me," Rory joked.

"I suppose you'd have five cents, thanks to Jane's sarcastic comment," Maura said.

"Aw, babe, you recognized sarcasm!" Jane laughed.

Steve slowly extricated himself as Rory put two and two together. "Babe? Wait, Rizzoli, you're really a—"

But then Steve's spot was filled by none other than Kate, who, like everyone else, appeared shocked that Jane had shown up. "Jane Rizzoli! What a surprise."

"Kate, hi," Jane said flatly.

"Oh, Kate?" Maura asked. "Jane, I was about to say you never told me you went to high school with Dana Fairbanks!"

"With…who?"

"Dana Fairbanks, she's a famous gay tennis player," Maura said. Turning to Kate, she added, "I'm sure you get this all the time, but you could be her twin."

Rather stiffly, Kate grabbed Rory's arm and said, "Yes, I have heard that. So! Jane. Look at that body! You definitely didn't have any kids, did you?"

"Yah, childbirth's not really my thing," Jane said. "Maura here and I have already decided that if children are in our future, she's the one who'll be doing the heavy lifting." (In truth it was a conversation they had only jokingly had, but Jane was determined to say something to wipe the smug smirk off Kate's face, and this effectively did the trick.)

"Oh! Well…wow. So you _are _a lesbian!"

"Yes, yes I am," Jane said, somehow deriving strength from Kate's clear flustered response. "I have a wonderful job, great friends, and the love of my life at my side—and if you'll excuse me, we're about to go settle a bet. So nice to see you guys again!" And without another word, she looped her arm through Maura's, turned them both around, and marched towards the exit, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Settling a bet?" Maura asked.

"Well, I guess it wasn't a bet. I just couldn't think straight back there. You said something about making my effort to come out to this reunion worthwhile…?"

Maura laughed, interlacing her fingers with Jane. "Ah, right. Before we go, are you sure there isn't any other place or people you'd like to show me, or introduce me to? Didn't you have _any _happy memories in high school?"

"Oh sure, some," Jane said, leading them towards the football field. "I felt right at home here."

"Attacking people?"

"Playing field hockey, yes," Jane chuckled. "And then of course, there were the notorious bleachers…"

"Why were the bleachers notorious?" Maura asked.

Grinning, Jane led her behind the nearest set. "I keep forgetting everything you missed out on with your fancy-pants private school in Europe! Everyone thought bleachers were the perfect place to discreetly make out, or have sex. It would've been, too, if it weren't for the fact that _everyone _had the same idea!"

"Did you ever have sex here?" Maura asked demurely.

Jane laughed, crouching as she led Maura deeper under the bleachers. "No, but Casey and I made out here a lot. We came to make fun of the football players and the cheerleaders, but then we'd get bored and found other ways to entertain ourselves here."

"Want to know a secret?" Maura whispered, putting her arms up around Jane's neck.

"What?" Jane whispered, leaning in to kiss her neck.

"Kate and Rory don't have a happy marriage."

"Not surprising," Jane muttered, trailing her lips up to Maura's ear. "Two jackasses don't make a right."

Maura chuckled, the vibrations causing the hair on Jane's neck to stand on end. "She wanted you."

This caused Jane to pull back suddenly, wondering if Maura had any idea of the magnitude of the bombshell she had just dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, surely you must have noticed? Every time she looked at you, she contracted her obicularis oculi and bit her depressor labii inferioris."

"What's that, googlemouth?"

"Her facial muscles indicated extreme desire and repressed sexual urges," Maura explained, as plainly as if telling Jane that one and one made two. "Also, the striations on her nails and ground teeth made it pretty clear that she's been undergoing stress."

"You think Kate had the hots for me?" Jane asked, not buying it.

"Well, who could blame her?" Maura asked softly. "I'm sure you must have been quite a specimen when you were a teenager."

"Quite a unibrowed specimen, yes."

"Jane!" Maura laughed, giving her shoulder a light shove. "You know, it isn't uncommon for adolescent girls to call out others on perceived weaknesses in themselves. By telling everyone in school that you were a homosexual, she could have been effectively calling attention away from her own insecurities."

Jane considered this for a moment. It seemed all too stereotypical. "If that's the case, I feel really sorry for her," Jane murmured, resting her hands on the small of Maura's back. "She doesn't know what she's missing." She captured Maura's lips in a gentle kiss, which quickly escalated in passion.

After this had been going on a short while, Maura whispered, "I feel like we're about to get caught, and disciplined."

"If you think you deserve it," Jane said. She was about to kiss Maura again, then noticed somebody on the football field. It was a lone man, dressed in a nice suit, miming a football catch. "Hey, I think that's Steve," she muttered. "Reliving the old glory days."

"Jane," Maura said suddenly, and her tone immediately indicated something was wrong. "There's Kate—does she have a—?"

"Gun," Jane said. "Call Korsak and Frost."

Kate was just walking past the bleachers, and Steve hadn't seen her yet. Jane pushed past Maura as quietly as she could, eventually emerging out from under the bleachers, where Kate had just passed. Steve had just realized he wasn't alone, but before he could do much more than say hello, Kate raised her right arm slowly. Steve barely had a chance to register the fact that she had a weapon in her hands when Jane Rizzoli came running out of nowhere and tackled her to the ground, almost too late. A bullet misfired, hitting Steve in the leg. Jane quickly realigned herself, forcing Kate face-first into the turf and straddling her.

"Drop it, Kate, drop it!" Jane shouted, grabbing Kate's wrist and slamming it against the ground repeatedly, forcing the gun out of her hands.

"Get off me, you dyke!" Kate barked viciously. "This dress cost more than you make in a year!"

"That's Detective Dyke to you, you sorry piece of crap!" Jane growled. "And you better have a damn good reason for confronting Steve Sanders with a gun out here!"

Frost and Korsak arrived at the scene, followed shortly by an ambulance Maura had called upon seeing Steve's injury. The sirens had brought many curious partygoers out onto the field, including Emily, who ran instantly to Steve's side.

Hauled onto a gurney, Steve waved for Jane's attention and said, "Let's talk tomorrow. Kate's got good reason to hold a grudge against me."

"Deal, Steve," Jane sighed, shaking his hand. "If you don't mind, though, I'm going to let my partners do the interrogating tonight."

"You saved his life," Emily said. "Jane, I don't even know what to say."

"'Good-night' would do at this point, honey," Steve said, smiling weakly at Jane and Maura. "You know, I'm really glad you came to the reunion, Rizzoli."

Jane reflected the grin. "Yeah. Me too."

Maura and Jane walked hand-in-hand from the scene, the latter feeling winded. "You amaze me sometimes," Maura said. "It's like sometimes you don't even think, you just do. You are fearless."

"Not all the time," Jane said. "I'm not always fearless when I'm talking to you, Maura. It's like, I used to think I'd have so much to lose if I ever opened up to you. But it's becoming more and more apparent that that's not the case."

They had arrived at Jane's car. "You don't ever have to worry about losing me," Maura said seriously.

"Promise?" Jane whispered, gently pushing Maura against the side of the car.

"Promise."

"In that case, I don't think we should move in together."

Maura's mouth opened slightly. "You…you don't?"

"Nope." _Fearless, Jane. Be fearless_. "I think we should get married."

"What?"

Jane calmly repeated herself: "I think we should get married."

"Are you sure this isn't just a manifestation of some euphoria produced by the high of saving someone's life in a melodramatic manner?"

"Maura, if there's one thing I learned by coming tonight, it's that you represent the best, the potential true happiness my life could possess. Being back here, I realized who made my life a living hell and how opposite you are from all that. I was so happy to graduate and leave these jerks behind, and as nice as it was to see a couple of them again, I don't feel the need to ever interact with most of them ever again in my life. If you left me, or if you suddenly weren't around, I don't …I don't know what I'd do."

For a long time, Maura stared into Jane's increasingly teary eyes. Then, in a soft voice, she said, "You do realize that if we got married, we would probably live together."

"Yes."

"And you're okay with that."

"Yeah, I guess I can deal."

She moved in for a kiss, but Maura pressed a hand against her. "You have dirt all over you, and this dress is extremely difficult to clean!"

"Better get it off then. Your place or mine?"

Maura smiled and gave Jane a short kiss. "Ours."


End file.
